


Cold Hard Cash - Epilogues

by meowitskatmofo



Series: Cold Hard Cash [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Double Penetration, Dungeons & Dragons, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Heavy BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, M/M/M, Meeting the Parents, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Sooo Much Smut, Threesome, Vaginal Sex, sick day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-05-02 16:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Stories from Cold Hard Cash land <3





	1. Chapter 1

Table of Contents

1\. Hey! You're Here!

_TOC and tags to be updated as new works are added for super easy navigation, organized by pairing and a brief summary._

2\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Remember that little bit at the end of chapter 23 that I cut off because OMG it was hella long? Well, here ya' go!_

3\. Mark Mardon/Kyle Nimbus

_What did ever happen in the back of that damn Nova. Huh. Smutty fun for our boys Kyle and Mark!_

4\. Mick Rory/Caitlyn Snow

_Mick finally gets his date with the lovely Doctor Snow! Smutty times ahead!_

5\. Mick Rory/Caitlyn Snow

_Mick and Cait's fun little date continues! More smutses and plot backstory type things!_

6\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_During a rough evening with Cold, Barry finally reaches a point where he has to use their safe word._

7\. Cisco Ramon/Lisa Snart

_Cisco and Lisa enjoy a little role-playing game. Super dorky D &D inspired smuts that I got a little carried away with._

8\. Mark Mardon/Kyle Nimbus

_The first time Mardon and Nimbus hook up in the wake of Clyde's death. Some mild angst with a big helping of smut!_

9\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Mick Rory

_Barry has a wonderful time with Mick and Boss Cold, but nothing is quite what it seems. Threeway smuts I couldn't stop myself from writing because Coldflashwave is love._

10\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Henry finally comes home, and Barry has to trust Cold's judgment. Finally getting back into the actual story, with a tiny splash of smut!_

11\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Barry and Cold have a warm and happy family dinner with Henry._

12\. Hartley Rathaway/Axel Walker

_Hartley and Axel have a lovely time celebrating the Rogues' victory._

13\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Barry struggles with his return to college, but Cold is there to make him feel better._

14\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Boss Cold comforts Barry after a nightmare. There's dancing and fluff._

15\. Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

_Barry and Cold celebrate the end of his first semester back at college and take a little trip down memory lane._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This is going to be a happy little collection of oneshots and drabbles for my [Cold Hard Cash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059836/chapters/32388966) AU! These are either stories that had to be cut from the original outline or brand new ones that will serve as epilogues for all of our gangster boys and girls. I hope you guys enjoy the ongoing adventures, and thank you so much for reading! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the visit from the smut fairy that sadly had to be cut from the end of chapter 23. Enjoy! <3

Cold smirked; that damned beautiful smirk. He pushed Barry down to his knees, starting to unbuckle his pants as he purred, "Well... it is my birthday, isn't it? Go on and show me, Mr. Allen." 

Barry beamed up at him, licking his lips eagerly as he happily replied "Yes, sir." 

Cold pulled out his cock, half hard and presenting himself to Barry like an offering. 

Barry lunged forward, grabbing the base and eagerly taking all he could into his mouth. He swirled his tongue all around it, groaning contently, his eyes fluttering as he gazed up at Cold. He used his other hand to touch, to caress, to show exactly how beautiful he thought Cold was. 

Cold gasped quietly when Barry's fingers found his balls, watching him pull off for a quick breath and running his tongue all over them. He suckled each one lovingly into his mouth before diving back onto his cock, his hands both now moving to squeeze Cold's hips. 

Cold let Barry suck and moan all he wanted, gently petting his hair, praising, "Mmmm, I'm starting to think you're the beautiful one... because you look positively angelic with your lips wrapped around me." 

Barry blushed at the praise, encourage to suck even harder, taking all he could down his throat until his eyes watered and he gagged. Still determined, he kept going, pushing himself to take it all and he loved to Cold hear groaning. 

He was usually so quiet, but now he was growling such lewd things, murmuring, "Yes, suck it down, Mr. Allen. Take all my cock, fuck, you look so good choking on my fucking cock..." 

Barry wanted to taste him, wanted him to come in his mouth, whining when Cold stopped him by tugging him off by his hair. 

"As fantastic as that is," Cold panted, sounding surprisingly out of breath, "I have other plans for you, Mr. Allen." 

Barry pouted, but obeyed, licking his lips to get every last taste of Cold he could, nodding, "Yes, sir." 

Cold grunted as he tucked his erection into his pants, sitting down on the chaise at the foot of the bed. He sighed softly, his eyes moving over Barry's lean body. "Strip for me. Slowly." 

Barry smiled and blushed, moving to slide his jacket off his shoulders as he stood up. He took his time, swaying his hips to music playing inside his head. He hummed softly, carefully unfastening his shirt and letting it join his jacket on the floor. 

He was especially slow as he opened up his pants, wiggling them with his underwear down his hips inch by inch, grinning as his hard cock sprang out. He slowly stepped out of them, peeling off his socks, proudly standing naked before Cold. 

"Come here," Cold said, gazing hungrily over Barry and patting his lap with a coy smile. 

Barry eagerly stretched out across Cold's thighs, his erection trapped between his stomach and Cold's leg, groaning at the pressure. 

Cold's hand rubbed over Barry's cheeks in soothing circles, taunting, "I think birthday spankings are in order, don't you?" 

"You're the birthday boy," Barry replied with a small laugh, his ass flexing instinctively. "Aren't you supposed to get the spankings?" 

"Oh, but it's my birthday," Cold drawled, "And I want to give them all to you. All forty five of them." 

"Christ," Barry whimpered, silently chanting the safe word over and over in case he needed it. 

"Are you ready, Mr. Allen?" Cold purred. 

"Yes, sir," Barry said, sharply inhaling. 

Cold raised his hand and to Barry's surprise, only lightly tapped his cheek. "One." He gently tapped him again. "Two..." 

"That's it?" Barry croaked dumbly, not understanding what Cold was playing at it. 

Cold reared his arm back, snapping his palm across both cheeks with a loud crack, taunting, "Three." 

Barry cried out, panting as he began to see the little game Cold was setting up for them. He would be gentle at first, teasing him with the thrill of pain to come before spanking him hard and viciously. 

Barry's ass was getting raw, burning, his head hanging down as he struggled to contain his moans. He never knew which hit was going to hurt, which ones would be kind, twisting in agony when Cold delivered a particularly sharp smack. 

All the way up to forty two Cold counted, making sure the forty second was especially mean, teasing, "I can see my handprints all over your lovely little ass." He petted him gently, giving his hip a squeeze, praising, "You did very well." 

"Thank you, sir," Barry whined softly. 

"Three more left... but I have something else in mind," Cold purred wickedly, his hands moving away and Barry could hear the rattle of his belt buckle. 

"Fuck," Barry whimpered, squirming in Cold's lap. He knew what was coming next. 

Cold chuckled quietly, sliding the cool leather across Barry's tender flesh. "Are you ready, Mr. Allen?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry said, taking a big breath. 

The first crack of the belt made Barry cry out, a line of fire racing across his cheeks that burned ferociously. It stung and throbbed, Barry's hands curling into tight fists. "Fuck!" 

"Good boy, such a good boy for me," Cold praised, whipping the belt down for the second strike. 

Barry nearly came off Cold's lap, wondering how if it was possible that he could hit the exact same place twice. It throbbed wickedly, tears springing up in his eyes, a broken moan getting trapped in his throat as he sobbed, "Fuuu-uck!" 

"One more," Cold assured him, pressing his hand at the small of Barry's back as he whipped the belt across his ass a final time. 

That strike made Barry's spine ache, sobbing as he rocked his hips down against Cold's thigh as if he could wiggle away from the pain. He whimpered as Cold gently petted his raw flesh, praising, "You were magnificent, Mr. Allen... you took them all so beautifully." 

"Thank you, sir." Barry's body went limp, his eyes closing as Cold continued to pet and massage his ass and lower back. He could still feel the burning lines pulsing across his ass, grinning softly as Cold's fingers traced each one reverently. 

"Can you walk, Mr. Allen?" Cold asked casually, clearly in no hurry, still rubbing away. 

Barry tried wiggling his legs, laughing breathlessly. They felt tingly and weak from being stretched out like this for so long, replying, "Not even sure I can stand." 

"Come here," Cold murmured, easily rolling Barry over in his lap, slipping his arms under his knees and his back. He stood up and carried him over to the bed. He set him down gently, tapping his thigh. "Up on your knees," he commanded. 

Barry stretched out his body for a brief moment, whining as his tender ass rubbed against the sheets. He grunted, slowly getting into position, gasping when Cold roughly grabbed his hips. He arched his back, dropping onto his elbows, spreading his knees wide on the edge of the mattress. 

"Perfect," Cold purred happily at the beautiful display, again tracing the lines left from his belt then moving his fingers to play with Barry's hole. 

Barry gasped, pressing his face against the bed. He was exposed and raw, groaning brokenly as Cold started to slide his fingers inside of him. He was so wrecked he hadn't even heard him grabbing the lube, rocking back against his slick and probing fingers. 

Barry was moaning, louder and louder, his erection still pounding away between his thighs. He whined when Cold was already pressing his cock up against his hole, begging, "God, yes, yes, please, fucking stick it me!" 

"Language," Cold gasped in feign shock, pulling away, "Who knew you had such a dirty mouth, Mr. Allen." 

"Please?" Barry asked desperately, "I'm just... I really, really want you." 

"You'll ask me nicely or not speak at all," Cold said sternly, Barry could hear the belt rattling behind him. 

He tensed up, expecting another spanking. 

"Open your mouth," Cold ordered. 

Barry obeyed, his eyes widening as Cold placed the strap of the belt in his mouth, groaning softly as Cold gave it a small tug. He pulled them back like reins, chuckling darkly. 

Barry shivered, his tongue soaking up the taste of the earthy leather, whimpering loudly when Cold's cock began to push against his ass again. 

He tried to be quiet, only panting through his nose, and he was promptly rewarded with Cold's thick cock stretching him out. 

Cold began hammering his tight hole mercilessly, pulling the belt and forcing Barry's head to tilt back. He was pulling so hard that Barry's whole body was soon arching into every thrust, screaming over the leather and crying from the abuse. 

He was overstimulated and shaking, the sides of his mouth aching from the leather tugging so cruelly. His hole was so full, the heat deep in his loins threatening to burst at any second. 

When Cold spanked his sore cheeks and jerked the belt back, Barry screamed again, clawing at the sheets. Drool was quickly dribbling down his face, running down his neck and chest. It was all so intense, it burned, and he felt so fucking alive. 

Cold snapped the belt again, forcing Barry to sit up, steering him back against his chest. The belt dropped away, snatching Barry's hair and pulling him into a hot kiss. He started running his fingers all over the drool, licking and sucking it off of Barry's chin. 

Barry knew he didn't usually touch Cold when they had sex like this, but he wanted it so badly. He reached back to grab at Cold's ass, winding his arm around his neck to scratch his fingers through his hair. "So good," Barry whined as Cold fucked him harder, "Fuck, it's so good!" 

Cold growled, using Barry's own spit as lube as he grabbed his cock. He stroked him at the same feverish pace as his slamming hips, kissing and sucking at Barry's mouth. "Come for me, Mr. Allen." 

Barry's lips parted in an ecstatic moan, thrusting eagerly into Cold's tight grip. Cold was slamming his cock faster and faster and Barry had no idea who came first, but in seconds they were shuddering together, Barry's whole body aching from the force of it. 

"Oh, Len," Barry whimpered, pulling Cold's hand and twisting their fingers together tight. He wished this bliss could last forever, his heart still pounding up in his throat. Cold was holding him so sweetly, nuzzling against his neck. 

"Well, that was a lovely birthday present," Cold sighed with a short laugh. 

"Good," Barry panted, grinning slyly. "Because that's all I got you." 

"Mmm, I'm very happy, it was quite thoughtful," Cold purred graciously. He gently helped Barry stretch back out on the bed, tenderly touching the sides of his face where the belt had been rubbing. 

"So, do you feel beautiful yet?" Barry asked coyly, eagerly leaning into his hand. 

"Not sure," Cold drawled playfully, "We may need to do it again. Not sure if I feel pretty enough." 

"Well, huh, guess I'll just have to keep trying," Barry sighed dramatically. "I mean, crap, this might take the rest of our lives." 

Cold chuckled to himself, his eyes warm and soft, winking slyly at Barry. "Looking forward to it." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened in the back of that Nova before the party.

Kyle Nimbus already knew exactly what he going to do first when he stepped outside the gates of Iron Heights as a free man. He flipped off every last guard he could see and pissed right out on the street. 

He smiled happily as he zipped his pants up, laughing to himself. He hoped this was the last time he ever saw this wretched place, grinning when he saw his 1972 Nova SS pull up in front of him with Mick Rory at the wheel. 

Right on time. 

Mick made the engine roar, grinning slyly as he put it in park and stepped out to greet him. 

"Hey, hey now," Nimbus snorted, "Be careful with Baby." He gave Mick a quick hug, clapping him on the back. 

"Hey, I brought her, didn't I?" Mick protested, gesturing to the car, "Took really good care of her while you were in." 

"Keys," Nimbus demanded, holding out his hand. 

"Fine," Mick grumbled, slapping them into Nimbus' waiting palm. "Party pooper." 

Nimbus grinned, sliding into the driver's seat. Fuck, it was almost better than sex. Almost. The leather fitting all around him, the grip of the steering wheel, all that power beneath his feet. He smirked at Mick as he got in, revving the engine and purring, "Buckle up." 

Mick eagerly strapped in, laughing as Nimbus took off, switching gears like a maniac as he raced away. He was too happy to put the prison behind him, groaning lovingly as his car growled and purred, the engine rumbling beautifully as he drove. 

"Just drop me off at my place," Mick instructed. "Cold is throwing you a little party tonight. Welcome home and all that shit." 

"Whole gang will be there, huh?" Nimbus asked with a smirk. 

"Including your boy Mardon," Mick noted. 

Nimbus drove faster, gritting his teeth as he snapped, "Not mine anymore." 

"Fine, fuckin' touchy," Mick snorted. They didn't say another word, driving in a comfortable silence until Nimbus dropped Mick off. 

Mick shook his hand before departing, saying, "Go handle your shit. We'll see you tonight. Cold is plannin' something." 

Nimbus grinned. "Can't wait." 

He took off the second Mick was safely out of the car. His apartment keys were in his personal effects the prison gave back to him, glad to finally be home. 

He didn't have too long before the party, making sure everything was in its proper place just as he had left it. To his surprise, he found a new suit hanging up in his closet. 

Definitely from the Boss. 

Cold had taken good care of Nimbus while he was locked up, and he was going to make sure the man knew he appreciated it. 

He got ready, taking a ridiculously long and scalding hot shower before getting dressed. If he happened to splash off the cologne that he knew was Mardon's favorite, he told himself it was just a coincidence. 

Nimbus went down to his car, happily sliding in the driver's seat and listening to the engine purr. He kissed the steering wheel, sighing contently. He had missed his Baby... and maybe one other person in particular he would die before admitting. 

Of course, when he arrived at Cold's estate, that one particular asshole happened to be standing outside. Nimbus glared, his insides twisted up by a mix of longing and rage. 

Mark Mardon. 

He stepped out of the car, intending on walking right by him and ignoring that cheating prick completely. 

"Who picked you up?" Mardon asked, his arms crossing over his chest. 

"The fuck do you care," Nimbus snorted, leaning his hip against the car door. He felt trapped by Mardon's intense gaze, trying not to stare back too hard. 

Fuck, he looked good. 

"You could have called me," Mardon said, taking a few steps closer. 

"And interrupt you and Hartley? Wouldn't dream of it," Nimbus sneered, trying to focus on his anger. 

"It was one fucking time! You were gone! I didn't know for how long!" Mardon exploded passionately, suddenly right in Nimbus' face. "I was fucking lonely! It was a mistake, I already tried to apologize-" 

"Fuck you! Like I wasn't fuckin' lonely, too?" Nimbus growled, snatching Mardon by the front of his shirt. "I was in fucking prison! I was fucking miserable! I couldn't even get a fucking drink, couldn't take a shit without some pig watching me! Do you know how many guys wanted to be my bitch, huh? And oh, look at that, my dick magically stayed right in my fucking pants." 

"You got like ten fucking years! Ten years, Nimbus! I didn't know if Cold could get you out! What did you expect me to do!" Mardon shoved Nimbus back. "Wait for you?" 

"It never even crossed your mind, did it?" Nimbus was visibly stung, shaking his head. "You fuckin' piece of shit. You selfish fucking slut, fuck you." 

"Fuck you!" 

"No, fuck you!" Nimbus seethed, the rage boiling between them was palpable and intense, roughly grabbing for Mardon's shoulders. "God, how I fucking hate you." 

"I hate you, too!" Mardon snapped, his hand clawing at Nimbus' shoulders. "You arrogant, stupid bastard." 

Nimbus snarled, grabbing a tight fistful of Mardon's hair, dragging him into a angry kiss. 

Mardon growled and bit Nimbus' lip harshly, his fists pounding into his chest in protest, snarling, "You fucking scum sucking bastard!" 

"Ball gargling whore," Nimbus shot back, licking at his bleeding lip. 

Mardon melted immediately, groaning, "Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty." He grabbed Nimbus' face, kissing him madly, grinding as close as he could. 

Nimbus hated how easy it was for him to give in, to forget how Mardon had hurt him. He adored him, all of his flaws, every last fucked up bit of him. 

No one got his blood pumping like this Mardon. Not another soul could ever compare. 

Nimbus purred, kissing Mardon deeply, his hands all over him. His shoulders, his hips, his ass; God yes, his ass. He'd thought about that ass for months in prison, getting a good handful and squeezing hard. 

Mardon gasped, their teeth hitting as their kiss deepened, dragging his fingers over Nimbus' skull. He knew he wasn't a good person; then again, neither was Nimbus. But they were so good together. They were so good at _this_. 

"Backseat?" Nimbus asked, though it wasn't much of a question. He already knew where this was going. 

"Don't you have a party to get to?" Mardon laughed breathlessly. 

"We'll have our own little party," Nimbus sighed, nosing along Mardon's jaw, squeezing his hips. "Just me and you." 

Mardon grinned slyly, already pushing Nimbus aside and crawling into the back of the car. He started unbuttoning his pants, asking, "Still keep lube in the glove compartment?" 

"Towel, too. And condoms," Nimbus snorted, grabbing what they needed, "Ain't fuckin' you without one, you fucking whore." 

Mardon rolled his eyes, shoving his pants down and rolling onto his stomach as he hissed, "Shut the fuck up, you whiny bitch. Just fuck me already." 

"Fuck you," Nimbus growled, pulling out his cock and sliding the condom on. He roughly slid a splash of lube between Mardon's cheeks and added some more to his cock, panting eagerly. 

"Come the fuck on," Mardon snapped impatiently, glancing over his shoulder. He spread his legs, his feet tapping the side window as he tried to get comfortable. 

Nimbus straddled him, his cock hanging hard and eager, pressing against Mardon's thigh. He shoved Mardon's face down against the seat, gripping his hair cruelly, snapping, "Shut the fuck up, fuck, you never fucking shut up!" 

"What's wrong? Can't get it up?" Mardon sneered. "Prison got your junk all fucked up?" 

"Ohhhh, fuck you," Nimbus laughed, seething as he lined himself up, pushing in deep. "Goddamn..." 

Mardon moaned low in sympathy, gasping as Nimbus began to thrust. That perfect moment when they were fully joined, both panting and gasping, was one Mardon never wanted to lose. He wished it could last forever. 

"Can't believe how tight you are," Nimbus sighed adoringly, adding with a little snort, "Especially with all that dick you've been takin' on the side." 

"This is it? Are you just gonna talk?" Mardon asked dryly, "Or are we gonna fuck?" 

Nimbus gave no reply except to slam his hips forward, both men groaning loudly. God, it felt so good. It had be so long for him, and Mardon was incredible. He had to concentrate on holding off or he was gonna bust on the spot. 

Mardon lifted up his ass, pushing himself back to meet Nimbus for every thrust, crying out, "Fuck! God, yes. Just like that, just like that." 

Nimbus fucked him hard, their combined breath already starting to fog up the back windows. He let his legs and hips do all the work, pounding Mardon's body down into the seat, growling ferociously. "Fuck, yeah," he snarled, "Fuck, I don't care who you fuck, nobody else can fuck you like I can." 

"Fuckin' prove it," Mardon laughed between groans. 

Nimbus was good. No, he was more than good; he was fantastic. But it required a special kind of persuasion to get him really going. He had to piss him off. 

Nimbus pressed his body down until he was completely flush against Mardon, hissing, "I fuckin' hate you." 

"Not as much as I fuckin' hate you, you hairless prick," Mardon shot back. He saw the burning rage in Nimbus' face, and he knew he'd won. 

Nimbus started fucking him even harder, angry and unstable, their bodies slapping loudly as they collided. The very car began to rock, its wobble fueled by Nimbus' furious hips. 

Mardon groaned and grunted, his lips parting in absolute bliss. He clawed at the seats, letting Nimbus fuck him as brutally as he wanted. He had missed this so much, gasping when Nimbus bowed his head and roughly bit his shoulder. 

Nimbus kept thrusting, never ceasing, even when there was a tap on the windshield. He looked up to see Mick standing there, giving him a friendly wave. Nimbus grinned in returned, his rhythm not faltering for a moment. 

"Fuck, who was that," Mardon panted. 

"Mick," Nimbus replied breathlessly, sliding his hand down Mardon's arm and tangling their fingers together. His thrusts were still hard, but he was slowing down, pushing as deep as he could each time. 

Mardon grunted when Nimbus bottomed out inside of him, squeezing his hand, hissing, "Fuck... I missed you." 

Nimbus kissed the side of Mardon's face, his ear, sighing, "I missed you, too." 

From there it was nothing but loving rolls of Nimbus' hips, mouthing along Mardon's throat and jaw, the intensity no longer fueled by rage but by something deeper. 

Every day while in prison Nimbus had thought about Mardon. 

He was an itch he couldn't scratch away, a fucking splinter stuck under his skin that he couldn't dig out no matter how hard he tried. Even when he had learned of Mardon's infidelity, his desire wasn't diluted in the slightest. In a strangely maddening way, it made him want Mardon even more. 

Nimbus wanted to prove that no matter where he strayed, no one could ever make him feel like he could. 

No one else could ever love him like he did. 

Mardon was crying out from every adoring slam, tilting his hips up to perfect the angle, kissing and sucking at Nimbus' fingers. 

Nimbus slid his thumb over Mardon's lower lip, kissing his cheek, starting to pick up the pace once more. "Fuck, gettin' close..." 

"Come on, baby," Mardon snarled, groaning desperately, "Come on... fuckin' get that nut." 

Nimbus hammered Mardon's body mercilessly, roaring as he came, grunting as he spilled everything he had. He was out of breath, sweating, kissing at Mardon's face, panting, "Come on. I wanna watch you come." 

Mardon reached underneath himself, starting to stroke himself to completion until Nimbus snapped, "Not on the fucking seat! Roll the fuck over." 

The only thing in the world that could possibly compete for Nimbus' affection was this car. 

Mardon growled as Nimbus pulled out and moved off of him, swinging his body around so he was on his back. He pulled Nimbus down for a damp kiss, sighing appreciatively when he felt Nimbus' fingers grabbing his cock. 

"There you go," Nimbus mumbled, jerking him faster and faster, making him twitch and whimper. "Come on. Get it, baby, come on." 

Mardon kissed Nimbus hard, sliding their tongues together as he chased his climax. Nimbus kissed him until he couldn't breathe, gasping as the pressure down in his loins snapped, his hips stuttering as he came all over himself. 

His head smacked against the seat, grinning happily as Nimbus worked him through it, moaning, "Fuck, yeah..." 

When Nimbus was sure Mardon was finally spent, he wiped off his hand on the towel. He tossed it at Mardon to clean himself up, shifting over in the seat. 

"So..." Mardon said, sitting up and adjusting himself, wiggling back into his pants. 

"So?" Nimbus echoed, getting dressed against as well and tying off the condom. 

"We doin' this again?" Mardon asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

"Depends on you," Nimbus said softly. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, whether you can keep your dick in line," Nimbus replied bitterly. 

Mardon reached for his hand, soothing, "I'm here, aren't I? I don't want anyone else but you. I mean it." 

Nimbus hesitated, but gave Mardon's hand a small squeeze. He met Mardon's gaze, searching his face for some degree of certainty. "Well," he said, pressing close for a rough kiss, "Don't make me fucking regret it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Another smut fairy visit! This time for my beautiful boys, Mardon and Nimbus. <3 Ugh, it's my personal crackship, and I love it so much. Hope you guys enjoy it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick finally gets his date with Doctor Snow. This story takes place after the ending of Cold Hard Cash, so I suppose it's the first real epilogue so far. XD

Mick Rory did not get nervous. 

He had been running drugs and cash for the mob before he'd ever sprouted his first chest hair, had killed a man before he left middle school, and he never saw graduation because he was doing his second stint in juvie. 

Through it all, his iron nerve and unflinching courage made him a formidable enforcer. Known for his enormous size and terrible burns, he was feared all over Central City. 

Serving under his childhood friend turned gangster boss, Mick Rory had been absolutely vital in Cold's takeover. He helped keep the other Rogues in line, handled any static that required a firm fist, and he was Cold's most trusted advisor and confidante. 

He never quit, never broke, and he never left a job unfinished. His penchant for fire and being such an unstoppable force earned him a special nickname. 

Heatwave. 

And yet, the mighty Heatwave's palms were distinctly sweaty as he splashed on aftershave and he caught himself checking his tie in the mirror several times before leaving his condo. 

Tonight was his date with Doctor Caitlyn Snow, a woman he had long admired with an equally impressive reputation. 

She was the head trauma surgeon at Central City General, but had once been one of the most sought after physicians in the nation. Her icy personality did not make her many friends, but her talent left her bank account overflowing and hospitals sending her offers from all over to come work for them. 

For a time. 

Mick didn't know the details, but something went bad with a very high profile surgery and Doctor Caitlyn Snow came to Central City with a nickname of her own. 

Killer Frost. 

Boss Cold helped her get set up with her shiny new job at CC General with the understanding that she would be on call for any personal medical emergencies. 

That was how Mick first met her. 

Mick had been stabbed at a turf dispute, and Cold called her in to take care of him. Bleeding and naked from the waist up, he was not prepared for the beautiful young doctor running her hands all over him. He was struck immediately by her big brown eyes, pouting lips, and the callous way she snarled, "Oh, quit whining, you big baby. It barely needs any stitches." 

He hadn't been whining, not at all, though he had grunted softly when she began to sew him up. It had nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the fact he couldn't remember the last time such a beautiful woman had touched him so gently. Despite her sharp tongue, Snow's fingers moved with a practiced tenderness and expertise. 

Mick was in love. 

He had never met a woman so fearless, so tough, and he had never wanted anything so much. Luckily for Mick, the Rogues were often in need of discreet medical assistance, and he saw the beautiful doctor at least a few times a month. 

He could always get the Doc to smile, sometimes even laugh on a good day, and he couldn't get over the sweet way she looked at him when no one else was watching. She flirted back with him constantly, and Mick was always amazed by her ability to verbally eviscerate and turn him on at the same time. 

She liked him, too. Mick was sure of it, but she still refused to go out with him. 

Finally, after months of being turned down, she had finally told him yes. 

One date, she said, to shut him up. 

The Doc was giving him a chance, and Mick was not going to fuck this up. This evening was going to be fantastic. He had no idea where this night would take them, but he was grateful for the opportunity to show her a good time. 

Mick had made reservations at Bullock's, a trendy and upscale restaurant whose waiting list was several months long. All it took was one phone call to get them a private table. He happened to know it was her favorite restaurant, and made sure that there was a bottle of wine waiting for them when they arrived. 

"Now," Caitlyn said, batting her eyelashes sweetly as Mick poured her a glass, "After tonight, you're not going to ask me out again. Right?" 

"I won't have to," Mick rumbled with a wide grin. 

"Oh? And why is that?" 

"Because you'll be the one calling me," he promised. 

"Ah, there's that insane confidence that is so nauseatingly impressive," Cait laughed softly. 

"I got plenty to be confident about," Mick protested. 

"No matter how many times I turned you down, you still persisted." 

"I'm a pretty determined guy." 

"Mmm," Cait sipped at her wine. "Some people might call that sexual harassment." 

"If you really wanted me to quit, I would have," Mick said with a shrug. "I'm not gonna push you like that. But I didn't wanna give up. Not when you treat me the way you do." 

"How's that?" 

"You treat me like I'm a person," Mick replied, reaching across and taking Cait's hand. It felt so small in his, his thick fingers brushing over her knuckles. "You actually see me. Not the thug, not the burns, just... me." 

Caitlyn's fair skin blushed softly, sighing, "I know what's it like to be underestimated because of what your looks. People see you, they only see the muscle. They don't realize how sensitive you are, your intelligence..." 

"Like when people see your gorgeous mug," Mick chimed in, "And they think you're just some clueless dame. They don't realize what a badass broad you are." 

"Badass, huh?" Caitlyn smiled, delighted at the compliment and squeezing Mick's hand. 

"I've seen you elbow deep in blood, talkin' shit to convicted killers like Nimbus and Jesse, and not even fuckin' smudgin' your lipstick," Mick said, lifting his glass. "Very badass. Very hot." 

"Most people tend to find me a bit, hmm, frigid," Caitlyn countered. 

"Maybe they just dunno how to heat you up," Mick chuckled with a wink. 

"And you do?" Caitlyn asked skeptically. 

"Think I'm doin' all right so far." 

"Meh, you're doin' okay," she teased with a playful wrinkle of her nose. "My favorite restaurant, very expensive wine... not bad." 

"Oh, I'm just getting started," Mick assured her. 

"Can't wait," Caitlyn chuckled, "Hmmm, something special planned for dessert?" 

"One thing at a time, Doc," Mick laughed. "It's gonna be a surprise." 

The waiter approached to take their order, and Mick released Caitlyn's hand so she could scan over the menu. Mick made sure she got whatever she wanted, insisting that the price didn't matter. 

"Working for Cold must pay well," Caitlyn noted casually once the waiter had left, sipping at the wine. 

"I got everything I need," Mick said with a shrug. "Doctoring probably pays better." 

"The house calls definitely help. Cold is a very generous man. How'd you two meet?" 

"Grew up together," Mick replied, "Same hood. We were gettin' into trouble before we could fuckin' crawl." 

"That's actually very sweet. Childhood friends turned criminal associates?" 

"Alleged criminals," Mick corrected with a chuckle. 

"How's he doing? Recovering well?" 

"Doin' just fine," Mick assured her, "That's the toughest son of a bitch I fuckin' know." 

"Good," Cait said, smiling brightly as their food arrived. She eagerly grabbed her fork, gushing, "This looks amazing." 

"Eat up," Mick urged, taking a few bites of his meal, watching Caitlyn dig in. He was about to comment on her healthy appetite, but a man had suddenly come up to their table, snarling, "Hey, you!" 

Mick was used to getting approached in public spaces, and it was rarely for anything good. Every fiber of muscle in his body instantly tensed, glaring up at the interruption, growling, "Best you step off. Now." 

The man wasn't looking at Mick, and he didn't even seem to hear him. He was staring at Caitlyn, demanding, "Why did you turn down my grandfather! Why?" 

Caitlyn's eyes narrowed, setting down her fork and replying coldly, "Because your grandfather is eighty seven years old, riddled with cancer, and would have never survived the surgery." 

"He's dead now!" the man raged. "You could have given him more time! You fucking bitch! You don't even care!" 

Mick slowly set down his utensils and put his napkin on the table. 

"You stupid fucking cunt!" the man started yelling, drawing the attention of the whole restaurant now, "You just let him die! Just like that guy back in Gotham!" 

Mick began to stand up, lightly popping his neck and stretching his shoulders. 

Caitlyn's eyes widened at the man's harsh accusation, surprised and angry, baring her teeth as she snapped, "Shut up." 

"Yeah, we heard about that! You killed him, just like you killed my grandfather, you fucking bitch-" The man suddenly lost the ability to speak with Mick's hand wrapped around his throat. 

"The next words out of your mouth are gonna be an apology," Mick told him calmly, "Or you're gonna be seein' your granddaddy real fuckin' soon." 

The man squeaked.

"Apologize," Mick ordered. 

"Sorry," the man gasped, groaning when Mick slammed his head against the table. 

Caitlyn jumped, startled, her eyes gazing up at Mick. There was something dangerous in the way she was looking at him that Mick couldn't quite place, but he liked it. 

He hit the man's head again, letting him drop to the floor bleeding, growling angrily, "You don't fuckin' talk to a lady like that. Fuck you and your fuckin' granddaddy." 

Caitlyn was absolutely beaming, her teeth lightly pressing against her lower lip. She looked positively intoxicated now, but Mick wasn't sure why. 

The waiter tiptoed over, asking politely, "Mr. Rory... is... is this man bothering you?" 

Mick adjusted his jacket, replying, "Yeah, he is. Get him the fuck outta my sight." 

The man lightly gurgled in protest, but the waiter and another employee came over to escort him away. 

Mick took Caitlyn's hand, asking softly, "Are you okay?" 

Caitlyn nodded, gulping down her wine, forcing a strained smile. "Fine." 

"Sorry about that," Mick said, frowning. "Maybe I shouldn't have hit him so much." 

"Wanna get outta here?" 

"You didn't finish eatin'," Mick said slowly, finally understanding that ravenous look in her eyes. Doc was hungry for something else. "Where you wanna go?" 

"My place," she replied firmly to Mick's surprise. 

"You sure, Doc?" 

"Don't make me tell you twice," she warned, smirking slyly. 

"Yes ma'am," Mick purred, kissing her hand and helping her to her feet. They left the restaurant arm in arm, Mick never asking once about the things the man said. 

If the Doc wanted to tell him, she would. 

Besides, Mick was much more interested in what the Doc wanted to do when they arrived at her townhouse. The moment the door shut behind them, she pushed Mick up against it, kissing him ferociously. 

Mick groaned softly, his hands squeezing her little hips, mumbling, "Fuck, Doc... this is so much better than the fuckin' dessert I had planned." 

"Watching you beat up that guy was so fucking hot," she panted, nipping at Mick's lip, caressing the sides of his face. "Fuck." 

God, this woman was perfect. 

He scooped Caitlyn up into his arms, kissing her passionately, trying to make it anywhere that had a flat surface. He managed to find the kitchen, setting her down on the counter. 

Caitlyn was absolutely devouring him, making the most lovely little moans as they kissed, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

Mick grunted, his cock twitching excitedly, pushing up the edge of her dress. "Fuck, you're so fuckin' sexy." 

"Mmm, thanks," Caitlyn purred, pulling him in for another fierce kiss. "You're not so bad yourself, throwing that guy around like a paper doll." 

"Shit, if I had known that got you goin' I would have been crackin' skulls fuckin' months ago!" 

"It's not just that," she explained, saying earnestly, "You did it for me." 

"I'd do anything for you," Mick promised and ran his hand up her thigh. He groaned when he found the lace edge of her stocking and the strap of a garter belt. "Fuck me, Doc..." 

"Maybe if you're lucky," Caitlyn chuckled coyly, kissing him softly. 

"Hey, whatever you want," Mick said, toying with the delicate little strap, deciding to leave it on, moving to stroke the front of her panties. 

Cait sighed pleasurably, arching her back and pushing her hips forward to grind against Mick's hand. 

Mick kept rubbing slowly, growling appreciatively when Caitlyn ran her nails over the back of his neck. He could feel her getting hot, getting wet. 

Caitlyn inhaled sharply as Mick's thumb carefully nudged her panties aside, sliding between her slick lips. "Mmm... Mick," she panted softly, smiling contently. 

"Fuck, I love hearin' you say my name like that," Mick purred, kissing her neck adoringly, his thumb moving around her clit in patient little circles. 

"Keep that up, and you'll hear it a lot more," she promised breathlessly. 

"You got it, Doc." 

"Call me Caitlyn," she pleaded. 

"Whatever you want, Caitlyn," Mick murmured obediently, stroking her a little faster, moving his fingers slowly inside her slick hole. He started thrusting inside while his thumb kept going, pleased when she began to moan softly. 

Caitlyn's lips were parting wide with every little whimper, gasping and rolling her body to take each thrust as deeply as she could. 

Mick wanted to watch her melt, kissing her passionately and stealing away a moan as he fucked her harder with his hand, growling possessively. He had waited for this moment for so long, and he wasn't going to stop until he had Caitlyn seeing stars. 

He kept rubbing and touching until her thighs began to shake, gasping and chanting, "Oh, fuck, Mick, oh, Mick, Mick, Mick!" 

Mick held her close, kissing her jaw, her throat, pumping his hand and working her through her orgasm until she was smacking at his wrist for mercy. 

He grinned, licking his fingers greedily as he chuckled, "How's that, Caitlyn?" 

Flushed but smiling, she teased, "If you have to ask, I guess you don't know, do you?" 

Mick laughed, kissing her happily and sliding his tongue slowly into her mouth. He held her waist, grunting when her legs wrapped tightly around him. "Mmmph..." 

"Bedroom," Caitlyn firmly ordered. 

"Yes, ma'am," he said obediently, grinning as he picked her up again, squeezing her ass and kissing her neck. 

"Mmm, second door on the right," Caitlyn murmured, her nails digging into his back. 

Mick moved along, being sure to duck low enough so he wouldn't hit Caitlyn's head as he stepped through the doorway, eagerly setting her down on the foot of the bed. 

She bounced back up to her feet, turning around and asking sweetly, "Would you unzip me?" 

"Fuck yes," Mick growled happily, dragging the zipper down at once. 

The black dress slid down Caitlyn's slim body, daintily stepping out of it and kicking it aside. Mick groaned, his eyes eagerly taking in the black lace of her bra and panties, running his fingers over the garter belt, grunting, "You don't need to take another damn thing off." 

"Oh?" Caitlyn's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Heels stay, too?" 

"Those definitely need to stay," Mick replied firmly, dropping to his knees before her. He pulled her panties over, shoving his face between her legs.

Caitlyn purred contently, sliding her hand over Mick's head as his tongue moved over her wet lips. "God... Mick." 

Mick was ravenous, licking and sucking so eagerly Caitlyn was forced back on the edge of the bed. He lifted her legs over his shoulders, focusing his efforts on her clit until she was shuddering around him, crying out his name. 

Mick pushed her up onto the mattress, trying to get rid of his clothes as quickly as he could. Caitlyn was impatient, buttons flying as she tore off his shirt, dragging her nails over his chest. 

"God, yes, fuck me up," Mick growled, encouraging the rough behavior, his pants down around his knees, kissing all over her neck. He pulled the cup of her bra down, sucking lovingly at her nipple until she squealed. 

"Mmmm, come on," Caitlyn urged, her nails digging into Mick's shoulder as she grinded her hips up against him. 

"You fuckin' got it." Mick had never put a condom on so fast in his life, his face flushing when he ripped her panties and began to slip inside of her, gasping, "Christ, Caitlyn..." 

She felt perfect; wet and hot, her tight walls squeezing down all around his cock. He had to breathe for a few moments or it was all going to be over too soon. He groaned when she scratched him again, grinning slyly as he began to thrust forward. 

He grabbed the heels of her stilettos, spreading her legs wide as he fucked her, spurred on by her beautiful moans. She had braced herself against the headboard, pushing herself down to take every slam with an ecstatic cry. 

Mick gave her all that he had, pulling out every little trick he knew to make Caitlyn scream. He nibbled at her neck, squeezed and caressed her breasts, hitched one of her legs over his shoulder and squeezed her hips. 

They were both drenched in sweat, their bodies sliding together and the lace of her lingerie rubbing between them. She eventually lost her shoes, and one of her stockings had rolled down, but Mick didn't care. 

Caitlyn was absolutely stunning, her face flushed and lips kissed raw, her nails certainly drawing blood as she marked him up, cursing and sputtering as she came over and over again in his arms. 

Mick grunted and roared, loving how Caitlyn took it all and still wanted more. She was fucking perfect, groaning breathlessly as he finally reached his end, rubbing his thumb over her clit to take her over the edge with him. 

Caitlyn screamed his name, her pussy pulsing around Mick's thick cock, sobbing against his chest as he fucked her through it. She pulled him down into a heated kiss, panting hard, moaning as the aftershocks continued to make her tremble. 

Mick held her close, softly petting her hair as they kissed. Everything was slowing down now, catching their breath and enjoying the taste of each other's lips. He couldn't stop smiling, asking, "Mmmph. So, whatdya think, Caitlyn? Can I get another date?" 

"Mmmm," she hummed softly, smiling mischievously, "I suppose we'll have to see..." 

"Oh, yeah?" Mick chuckled. 

"Can you go again?" she asked sweetly. "I think I need some more convincing." 

"Gimme fuckin' twenty minutes, and I'll go anywhere you fuckin' want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, hey, Smut Fairy came to visit! Hope you guys enjoy it! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick and Cait's date continues!

Mick and Caitlyn went at it again, finally losing all of their clothes as they devoured every inch of each other's bodies. Mick worshipped every inch of Caitlyn, lavishing her flesh with hot kisses and gentle touches, treating her as if she were a delicate creature that might break. 

But Caitlyn was far from delicate, as fierce a lover as Mick ever had. She grew tired of the soft and sweet, and she had no problem being vocal about what she wanted. Hair pulling, rough spankings, and her nails digging trenches down Mick's back. 

He fucking loved every second of it, leaving Cait screaming his name again as he pounded her tight pussy through another mind shattering orgasm. He couldn't hold off, the intense pulsing all around his cock wrenching his climax from him with a loud grunt. Sweating and breathless, they fell apart and stretched out on top of the sheets, grinning like fools at each other. 

"Mmmm..." Caitlyn hummed happily, closing her eyes. 

"Good?" 

"Mmhmmm," Caitlyn replied, sighing deeply. "Now it's time to fall asleep." 

"And for me to fall in love?" Mick laughed. 

"Oh, it's way too late for that," Caitlyn replied, opening her eyes to wink at him. "You're already wrapped around my little finger, Mr. Heatwave." 

"I've been in worse places," Mick said with a smirk, not denying a word. He tucked his arms up behind his head, asking casually, "Gonna kick me out?" 

"Not yet," Caitlyn said, rolling onto her side, "I might wanna fuck you again in the morning. You can stay. For now." 

Mick gently touched her cheek, kissing her soft lips with a big grin. "Whatever you fuckin' want." 

Caitlyn smiled sweetly, her fingers lazily dancing over Mick's chest. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll go on another date with you." 

Mick's heart did about ten cartwheels, playing it cool as he replied, "You just tell me when and where you wanna go." 

"Mmm, gonna have Jerry drive us?" she asked with a sly grin. She was very aware of the limo driver's affection for her. 

Mick cackled, teasing, "You are one cold bitch." 

"Thank you! That might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me." 

"Jerry's real broken up about it, you know." 

"He'll get over it," Caitlyn snorted, "He's sweet, but he's a little too skinny, too soft for me. I like a man with some meat on his bones." 

"Hey," Mick said, gesturing to himself, "I'm just what the doctor ordered." 

Caitlyn laughed, snuggling in close to Mick's side. "Aren't you just," she drawled, stretching out her long legs. "Might need a prescription." 

Mick curled his arm around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Anytime you wanna do this, you just holler, Caitlyn. I'll give you one hell of a fuckin' refill." 

Caitlyn groaned at the joke, shrugging as she said, "We'll see. I'm not really into long term arrangements." 

"That's a damn shame," Mick rumbled, "But I'll take ya' however can get ya'." 

"That's it?" Caitlyn seemed surprised. 

"What?" 

"You're not gonna beg? Not going to confess your undying love for me? Promise you'll take care of me and all that?" 

"I ain't really into beggin' much, and you don't need nobody to take care of you," Mick chuckled, adding with a wink, "But I do love that fuckin' puss of yours. And all the other bits that come with it." 

Caitlyn looked especially pleased at that, kissing his cheek sweetly. "Mmm, none of that other shit would work on me anyway." 

"Yeah, didn't think so," Mick laughed. 

Caitlyn smiled contently, her eyes slowly closing. "Good night, Mick. Thank you." 

"For?" 

"Letting me be me," she sighed softly, drifting off to sleep. 

Mick smiled, replying gently, "Anytime... Night, Doc." He was fast asleep only moments after Caitlyn, his whole body thrumming with an intense satisfaction that made his very bones feel warm inside. 

When Mick woke up, he was alone in bed. He lifted up his head, spying Caitlyn freshly showered in a white silk robe and sitting at her vanity. 

"Good morning," Caitlyn chirped, far too cheerful at such an early hour. 

Mick grumbled softly, noticing a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him at the bedside, still piping hot. "Morning," he yawned, sitting up and taking a sip. 

"Big gangster plans for the day?" she teased, toweling off her hair. 

Mick fished around for his pants, grabbing his phone. No messages from Cold. 

Good. 

"Not today," he replied, putting his pants on for a bit of modesty, getting up on his feet and stretching. "You got doctorin' shit to do?" 

"Mmm," Caitlyn hummed, painting her eyes with fresh liner, "I have a consult at ten. Gotta kick you out in a minute." 

"What about that morning sex?" Mick asked, sipping his coffee and gravitating towards some photographs on the wall by the dresser. 

"Should have woken up earlier," Caitlyn replied with a quick shrug. 

Mick snorted in reply, glancing over the pictures. There was an old couple smiling together, maybe Caitlyn's parents. The others were of a buff young man with dark hair, including a large print of him and Caitlyn together. 

She was wearing a white dress. 

A wedding dress. 

"Who's this?" Mick asked with a frown. 

"My husband," Caitlyn replied, brushing out her hair calmly. 

Mick blinked, turning back around to look at her. "You're married?" 

"Widowed," Caitlyn corrected, setting the brush down and leaning close to the mirror to apply lipstick. 

"Fuck," Mick murmured sympathetically. "Condolences." 

"Thanks," Caitlyn said, flashing a brief smile as she checked her make up. "It was a long time ago. When I still lived in Gotham." She paused, pursing her lips as she added thoughtfully, "You haven't asked me what happened." 

"None of my business," Mick said, walking up behind her and slowly running his fingers through her hair. "Figured if you want me to know, you'd tell me. Just like that shit last time. Ain't that I don't care, I just figured it's not my place to poke around." 

"May I ask you... a personal question?" Caitlyn tilted her head into Mick's touch, glancing at him through the reflection. 

"Anything you want," Mick said with a shrug. 

"How many people have you killed?" 

"Dunno," Mick replied honestly, "Too many to count. I remember the first one pretty well. Remember thinkin' that was a shit ton of blood, and it didn't look anything like it did in the movies. They all kinda run together after that." 

"I killed someone," Caitlyn said, her big brown eyes not showing one ounce of remorse. "That's why I left Gotham." 

"Oh, yeah?" Mick actually smiled. "Who the fuck did you kill?" 

"The man responsible for my husband's death," Caitlyn replied, touching up her lipstick with a quick dab of her finger. 

"No shit?" Mick was impressed. 

"Uh huh. My husband Ronnie was an architect, and he was hired to build a convention center for the city of Gotham. The city treasurer and the county commissioner kept cutting corners, stripping parts out of his design. Ronnie told them that it wouldn't be safe with the structural changes they were making, but all they cared about was skimming money from the project funding to line their pockets. 

"When Ronnie was visiting the site one day, part of it collapsed on top of him. Killed him and two other workers. The city blamed my husband, said it was obviously because of his design that it had failed. They covered it all up, and then they dragged my poor husband's name through the fucking mud. I knew I would do everything I could to kill both those pricks." 

"Yeah?" Mick was completely enraptured, lightly massaging Caitlyn's shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. Just when he thought this woman couldn't be any more amazing, she was talking about murder with a smile on her face and blew him away all over again. 

"Mmmhmm," Caitlyn hummed happily, "The commissioner died before I could get to him, had a stroke on his toilet. But the city treasurer? Oh, that little bastard became the mayor of Gotham last year; and, aw, wouldn't you know it, Mr. Mayor needed heart surgery." 

"Fuck," Mick grunted, sliding one of his hands down Caitlyn's chest, cupping her breast through her robe. "Is that how ya' did it? Killed him during the surgery?" 

"Uh huh," Caitlyn nodded, moaning softly when Mick pinched her nipple. She licked her lips, continuing heatedly, "I'm one of the top cardiac surgeons in the country. There was no question about who would perform the surgery. They practically fucking gift wrapped him for me." 

Mick's cock was hard, reaching down to palm himself through his pants as he caressed Caitlyn's breast. "That's so fucking hot. You avenged your fucking man." 

"Goddamn right I did," she panted, "All it took was one little nick to his aorta and oops, the mayor bled out right there on the table." She pouted her lips, sighing, "It was such a tragedy." 

Mick fumbled with his pants, pulling out his cock and stroking himself eagerly. "Goddamn, Doc... that's some fuckin' good work." 

Caitlyn turned in her chair, her hands taking over on Mick's cock, laughing, "Oh, well, the medical board investigated me. Almost lost my license. It was only after he died that those idiots realized who I was." 

Mick groaned appreciatively, running his fingers through Cait's hair, chuckling, "How the fuck?" 

"Never changed my name when I got married," Caitlyn replied, running her tongue over the head of Mick's cock. "No one had any idea that little Caitlyn Snow was Ronnie Raymond's widow." 

"Fuck," Mick murmured, gasping when Caitlyn started mouthing along his shaft, "Look at you, my beautiful Killer Frost." 

Caitlyn's cheeks blushed at the nickname, taking Mick's cock all the way into her mouth and moaning softly. 

Mick sighed, watching Caitlyn's pretty lips wrap around him, groaning low when she took him deep down into her throat without batting an eye. 

Caitlyn slowly massaged her fingers over his balls and the base of his cock, squeezing hard as she sucked him deeper still. 

"Damn, girl," Mick praised, tilting his hips forward and gasping, "You want this monster to do anything for you, better quit." 

Caitlyn managed a smirk, bobbing her head a few times before she pulled off, her lipstick still immaculate as she purred, "Let's go, big boy. I have to leave in thirty minutes." 

"Yes, ma'am," he grunted happily, scooping Caitlyn up into his arms and carrying her back to bed. He made every minute count, pushing himself into her tight body over and over. He wasn't satisfied until he had her thighs quaking around his waist at least twice, spilling himself into her with a happy groan as they came together. 

Caitlyn immediately popped out of bed the moment they had finished, teasing, "Now I'm kicking you out!" 

"Fine by me," Mick chuckled softly, collecting his clothes and getting dressed. He watched Caitlyn pull on a matching bra and panty set, white lace with a garter belt and stockings to match. He grunted, commenting, "Mmm, you always dress up like that, that hot lingerie shit?" 

"I do," Caitlyn replied, smirking as she slid into a sleek ivory dress, "It's my armor. I feel sexy, powerful. Even if no one ever sees it, I love putting it all on." 

"Fuck, I love you puttin' it on, too," Mick said grinned. 

"And taking it off?" Caitlyn teased, stepping into a nude pair of heels. 

"That, too," Mick agreed. 

Caitlyn sprayed on a quick puff of perfume, grabbing her purse and reaching for Mick's hand. 

Mick let her pull him in for a deep kiss, his hands sliding along her petite waist. He wished it could last forever, but she was pulling away all too soon. 

"Time to go," she said, leading him briskly to the door. 

"So. Am I gettin' another date?" Mick asked, waiting for her to lock up so he could walk her over to her car. 

"I've got your number," she replied innocently, unable to resist a warm smile that definitely meant yes. 

Mick grinned, kissing her hand before opening up the car door for her. "See you tonight," he said confidently, "Maybe we'll actually make it all the way through dinner this time." 

"Maybe," Caitlyn said, "Although I really did enjoy dessert last night." She paused, laughing, "You never did actually tell what you'd had planned. What was the surprise?" 

"And I ain't gonna," Mick teased, "You'll just have to wait for our next date." 

Caitlyn pursed her lips thoughtfully as she got settled in her car, saying at last, "I'll be home by six o'clock tonight. Don't be late." 

"Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it," Mick promised, closing the door for her and stepping away. They waved farewell, Mick watching her pull out into traffic. He grinned wide, heading to his car with a bit of a bounce in his step. 

He knew the Doc was right about what she had said last night; the big and mighty Heatwave had undoubtedly fallen in love with the beautiful Killer Frost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn't resist writing just a teeeeensy bit more for these two! Hope you guys like it! Some Coldflash smuts is coming up, Henry will be getting out of prison finally, and all sorts of other fun stuff! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a rough evening with Cold, Barry finally reaches a point where he has to use their safe word.

Darkness. 

Barry was blindfolded, the loss of sight making every other sense a thousand times more sensitive. 

He could hear Cold's excited breathing behind him, the wet gasp of lubricant as he opened the tube. 

He could feel the rope strung all around his lean body, chafing against his shoulders and groin, his cock throbbing between his thighs. His hands were bound behind his back, legs spread wide. Cold had him strung up elegantly like an origami swan made of flesh and bone. 

It was getting intense. 

Barry had lost track of the time. Although it hadn't quite been thirty minutes, it felt like it had been hours, maybe days. His thoughts were all a blur, a complete slave to Cold's every whim. 

His skin felt too hot, sweating all over, Cold positioning now him on his hands and knees. He could feel a trickle of perspiration dripping down his neck, itching and heated, whining as Cold pushed inside of his aching body. 

Cold was fucking him hard, so very hard, and he cried out when he felt an intruding finger sliding around the edge of his hole. 

"You take my cock so beautifully," Cold was praising, "Would you like to take some more?" 

"M-more?" Barry stammered breathlessly, moaning when Cold's finger started fucking into his tight hole alongside his cock. "God... yes, sir." 

"Perfect," Cold purred, another finger joining the first and making Barry cry out again. "You're such a good boy for me, Mr. Allen." 

It was becoming too much, the stretch too intense. Barry tried to work through it, tried to be a good boy, whimpering and writhing helplessly. 

Cold's fingers slid away giving Barry momentary relief, but he was getting something. His cock continued to slowly thrust, Barry's keen ears picking up the sound of more lube... and something. 

What was it. 

Barry gasped when he felt the rubber head of a dildo trying to press inside of his hole, already so full from Cold's thick cock. He was stretching and stretching, moaning as the head popped inside. "Oh, f-fuck!" 

Cold hadn't stopped moving, although his efforts had slowed, carefully beginning to fuck the toy into Barry's tight ass. "Look at you... just open up a little more for me." 

"I... I can't," Barry sobbed, his hole felt like it was on fire and the burn was too much. 

"Yes, you can," Cold soothed, pushing the toy a little deeper. 

Barry couldn't breathe, his eyes felt hot, trying to spread his legs to let it all in. 

The pain was threatening to make him throw up as his insides heaved from the agonizing stretch. The toy and Cold's cock fucking him was too much, starting to panic. 

"Ice," he hissed desperately, tears running down his face. His chest was too tight, everything hurt, suddenly hyperaware of the ropes rubbing him raw, crying pitifully. 

"We're done," Cold said quickly, and immediately stopped. He slowly pulled the toy and his cock out, Barry sobbing in relief. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Barry whimpered. 

"Shhhh," Cold soothed, pulling the ropes off in a blink, his voice tender and loving as he purred, "I've got you. We're done now. You're safe." 

Barry began crying harder, his body limp and exhausted, completely pliable in Cold's arms as he pulled him close. He still had the blindfold on, a little disoriented as Cold held him. He was dizzy, sniffling softly. 

"You were such a good boy," Cold soothed, kissing his forehead and stroking a hand across his back. He removed the blindfold at last, kissing Barry's damp cheeks as he sighed sweetly, "You were such a good boy for me." 

"I'm sorry," Barry wailed, despair washing over him and threatening to drown all of his senses as he gazed mournfully up at his lover. He was expecting to see anger or perhaps disappointment, but all he saw was a loving smile. 

Somehow, seeing Cold smile so sweetly was even worse. Barry wasn't good at all. He was a failure. He hadn't been able to take it, sobbing desperately against Cold's chest. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Cold said firmly, kissing Barry's forehead. 

Barry couldn't stop crying, nearly hysterical, and Cold continued to pet him and whisper sweet words into his ear. 

"You were amazing," Cold assured him, "You are the most gorgeous creature I've ever seen... you took it all so well. It was your first time trying to take so much, and you did great. But I need you to breathe for me, Barry. It's all right now." 

Barry took a few deep breaths as instructed, shaking all over, stammering," Y-you're not upset... that I quit?" 

"Barry," Cold said, "I'd only be upset if you lied to me." 

"Wh-what do you mean?" 

"If you let me keep going and I actually hurt you? If you were at your limit and you didn't use the safe word? Then I would be angry," Cold explained, his nimble fingers still stroking along his shoulder blades. 

"But I do like the pain," Barry protested feebly, "I'm... I'm sorry I that couldn't handle it." 

"Barry, pain is only part of what we do together," Cold said gently, "Everything we do must be based on trust. Trust that I never want to do anything that will injure or scare you." 

Barry sniffed, peering up at his lover, his eyes fluttering as Cold wiped away his tears. He was nauseous and frustrated, but Cold's gentle touch was incredibly comforting. 

"You did beautifully," Cold reassured him again, his hands moving to rub all over the marks the ropes had left behind. He gently rolled Barry onto his back, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together. 

Barry was grateful for the contact, keeping his hands anchored to Cold's shoulders even as he moved down his body. Cold felt so warm and safe, gasping as his lips pressed over his heated skin. 

Cold kissed each pressure mark on his chest, his mouth sliding lazily across the ones on his stomach. He lavished Barry's cock with gentle affection, only meant to be kind and not directly arouse, kissing his aching hole lovingly. 

Barry was absolutely melting into the sheets, Cold's strong hands beginning to rub all the tension out of his legs and hips, his voice adoring as he spoke, "You are so gorgeous like this... absolutely perfect, and all mine." 

"Yours," Barry agreed, smiling sweetly as Cold's hands massaged his arms and his chest. The pain was almost gone, left with a happy glow that made his face hot, groaning as Cold kissed him. 

His lips were so dearly tender, kissing Barry as if all he needed in the whole world was to taste him. 

"Len," Barry murmured, wrapping his arms around Cold's neck. "I love you." 

Cold nuzzled against Barry's neck, whispering in his ear, "Je t'aime, mon cher." 

Barry smiled, his heart surging with a tidal wave of joy. In any language, it made him happy to hear it. 

"Feeling better?" Cold asked softly. 

"I'm... I think so," Barry replied, licking his lips anxiously. "We could try again-" 

"No," Cold said firmly. He readjusted them, pulling the blankets over them and tucking Barry in. He shook his head, and in a more gentle tone he told him, "Not tonight." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Let me take care of you," Cold insisted, petting his fingers through Barry's hair. 

"Okay," Barry said softly, the frantic turning of his stomach finally beginning to relax. He pouted when Cold move to grab his phone, missing the comfort of his arms immediately. 

Cold typed a quick message on his phone, rolling back to hug Barry close and kiss his hair, resuming their gentle snuggling. 

A few minutes later, there was a bleep from Cold's phone, his voice reassuring once more as he said, "I'll be right back." 

Barry watched Cold put on a robe and head to the bedroom door, picking up on Jerry's voice and a quick exchange in French. Cold returned with a tray full of food and a bowl of ice. 

Cold wrapped the ice in a small towel, his hand sliding under the sheets and gently placing it up between Barry's legs. "Good?" 

Barry wiggled a little to get the cool sensation where he wanted it most, sighing, "Good." 

From the tray, Cold picked up a chocolate truffle and held it to Barry's lips. "Here," he said, "Eat this." 

Barry opened his mouth obediently, groaning at the rich taste. It was so sweet it made his tongue ache, eagerly swallowing the bite down. 

Cold kept feeding him, saying softly, "Are you all right? You didn't tear from what I could see." 

Barry shook his head, replying, "I'm okay. I'm just... sore. I'm sorry I got so upset... it's..." His forehead wrinkled up, trying to put his words together. "I don't know." 

"Talk to me," Cold urged, offering one last bite of chocolate before taking Barry's hand. 

Barry swallowed slowly, frowning. His stomach sloshed a little, trying to pinpoint the source of his angst. "I let you down. I couldn't... I couldn't do it. I felt like a failure..." His eyes were filling with tears, gasping, "Like I failed my father for so long, I dropped out of college..." 

Cold squeezed Barry's hand, purring, "Barry. You're not a failure. You were amazing today, and I am such a lucky man that someone as incredible as you is all mine. Your father is getting out of prison soon, and college... if you want to go back, you tell me when you want to go. I'll gladly pay for it." 

Barry's heart fluttered, asking timidly, "You'd do that for me?" 

"I'd do anything to make you happy," Cold replied sincerely, "I enjoy watching you at the club, but if going back to college is what you desire? I'll make it happen." 

Barry's face lit up with a brilliant smile, his despair vanishing in a blink, exclaiming, "Wow! You're serious? You really mean it?" 

"I do," Cold replied, smirking snugly, "Besides, it may be very useful to have a lawyer around." 

Barry actually laughed, grinning shyly as he teased, "I want to be a lawyer to help innocent people, Len." 

"I'm innocent until proven guilty," Cold quipped. 

"Says the man with a very impressive criminal record," Barry giggled. 

Cold smirked, touching Barry's cheek affectionately. "I love to see you smile... how are you feeling now?" 

"Better," Barry replied, blushing at the sweet gesture, "Tired. Really tired. But I feel much better. All of my life I've tried so hard to get all the things I want, and now I'm finally getting them..." 

"But you still feel inadequate?" Cold supplied knowingly. 

"Yes," Barry said, his smile dimming a little, "I think there's a part of me that wishes I had been able to do it sooner, or maybe do it all on my own... I don't know really." 

"Mmm, but just remember," Cold assured, "I may fund you, but when you walk across that stage with your diploma in your hand? It will be because of your studying, your hard work. It's yours and your achievement alone." 

Barry was beaming, chuckling as he said, "How do you always know what to say?" 

Cold shrugged, smirking as he chuckled, "Because I'm very old and very wise." 

"Not that old," Barry said with a warm smile, pulling him down for a sweet kiss. "You're perfect." 

"Mmm, far from it." 

"Well, you're perfect to me," Barry sighed, snuggling in tight. 

Cold may have blushed, turning his head away so Barry couldn't be sure. He pulled his arms around him, murmuring, "Sleep now." 

Barry didn't protest, his body and mind worn out completely from the intense evening. He let his eyes close, smiling softly when Cold kissed his hair, whispering in his ear, "Vous êtes mon fantasme devenu réalité... Je t'aime." 

"No clue what that means," Barry mumbled sleepily, "But I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut fairy strikes again! This was originally meant to be in the main story line, but I cut it because holy crap twenty million chapters and all that. I rewrote some bits and finished it up so it now fits into the timeline as taking place at the end of CHC. Enjoy!
> 
> ALSO - Cold told Barry that he is his fantasy come to life. Basically. My French came from Google. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco and Lisa enjoy a little role-playing game.

"Tell me, baby," Lisa purred, drawing out each syllable she spoke like a ballad, her eyes eagerly taking in the gorgeous sight of her lover spread out before her, "What's your alignment?" 

"Oh, I am so lawful good right now," Cisco earnestly replied, sighing happily as Lisa petted his chest with her long nails. 

"Mmm, let's do a strength check." She leaned down, softly kissing his lips as she slid her hand down his stomach and squeezed his cock. "You rolled a 20." 

Cisco shuddered, his head dropping back against the pillows of Lisa's plush bed. He'd had so many fantasies dedicated to this beautiful woman, but none could have ever compared to the reality of finding out his gorgeous lady was a D&D player. 

Cisco had just been a dungeon master last week and while Lisa hadn't played in ages, she knew enough to keep the dirty talk exquisitely nerdy for her man. 

She had promised that today was going to be a very fun dungeon, and she had a few special golden candles lit at the bedside. There was also a large velvet case and a small black bag, but Cisco had no idea what might be inside of them. 

Treasure, was all Lisa would say. 

She had stripped him down slowly, making out until Cisco was nearly desperate. He could never get enough of her. They had both been nearly insatiable since their first encounter, and Cisco was falling more in love with her every day. 

Boss Cold only seemed to tolerate the arrangement, but Cisco knew that he approved. 

Otherwise, the gangster would have killed him. 

Lisa cuffed his wrists to the headboard, gently touching Cisco's shoulder. He had been doing his physical therapy per the doctor's orders, and he didn't even have to wear the sling any longer. 

Still, Lisa always made sure. Once she got an approving nod from Cisco, she finally allowed the game to begin. 

Lisa straddled his hips, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she said, "You and your party see a witch up ahead, a beautiful and sexy witch." 

Cisco grinned, nodding, "A very sexy witch with curly brown hair?" 

"Mmhm," Lisa hummed, drawing her lips into a dramatic pout, "The witch does not appear to be friendly... she looks ready to attack." 

"Roll perception check, why is the witch so upset?" Cisco asked. 

"Failed." Lisa picked up one of the candles, wiggling her hips playfully as she purred, "Mmm, the witch is going to use her Touch of Midas spell on you..." 

"Roll to put up shields?" Cisco squeaked, watching the flame of the candle intently. 

"Mmmm, looks like you rolled a one," Lisa pouted, tilting her hand and allowing a quick splatter of golden wax to hit Cisco's stomach. 

Cisco whined, his abs clenching from the intense sensation. It left him aching for more, panting weakly. 

"The witch's assault continues," Lisa cackled, another hot stream of wax dripping up Cisco's stomach to his chest. 

Cisco gasped and writhed, every nerve ending alive with pain and pleasure, the combination almost overwhelming. 

"Alignment?" Lisa asked sweetly. 

"Still lawful good, baby," Cisco panted breathlessly, "Gimme some more." 

Lisa carefully lifted her hand higher and dripped a little trail of wax up to Cisco's nipples, purring, "Oh, the witch is so angry..." 

Cisco whimpered as the hot wax hit his sensitive flesh, his cock twitching helplessly as he groaned. Even as the wax cooled, it left the skin beneath warm and tender. His nipples were hard and he could feel his pulse in each one of them as Lisa continued to let the wax spill. 

"Fuck, beg the witch for mercy," Cisco groaned happily, grinning wide up at his lover, "Offer my body to her in exchange for leniency." 

"Ohhh," Lisa gasped, "Sexy check passed... the witch has decided to keep you as her pet... but only if you pass a few tests of dexterity and stamina." 

"I am so ready," Cisco grinned, licking his lips as Lisa began to crawl up his body. She was naked except for a pair of golden stiletto heels that he particularly loved, and a thin silk robe. 

She put one foot on either side of his head, holding onto the headboard as she began to descend, Cisco whining eagerly as he watched her beautiful pussy come down just out of his reach. 

"Alignment?" she breathed. 

"So fuckin' lawful good, fuck, baby," Cisco pleaded, moaning when she finally came down close enough he could slide his tongue right between her lips. She was so fucking wet, licking and swallowing back every drop he could gather, pushing himself off the bed to suck at her thighs. 

Lisa moaned happily, reaching down to tug at Cisco's hair as she giggled, "The witch is very pleased." She spread her lips apart so Cisco could ravage her clit, grinding her hips down as she gasped, "Very pleased! Fuck!" 

Cisco latched on like a man starved for it, using the tip of his tongue to dart around in little circles while suckling at her lips and that sensitive little bead of flesh. He wished he had a hand free to slip inside of her, letting his tongue dip in for a moment before attacking her clit again. 

Lisa groaned pleasurably, winding her fingers through Cisco's long hair, pulling hard and grinding her pussy into his mouth. "Come on, baby... fuck, just like that, just like that," she pleaded, breaking character as her thighs began to shake. 

Cisco's scalp was burning and he could still distantly feel throbbing all over his skin where the wax had dried. He tuned it all out, focusing only on pleasing Lisa, sucking and licking until his tongue was aching, moaning in sympathy when he felt her slick cunt starting to pulse. 

Hearing her cries of ecstasy as she fucked his face was the sweetest sound in the world, eating her sweetly and working her through every shudder. 

Lisa's legs were shaking as she clumsily slid back down Cisco's body to sit on his hips, leaning down to kiss him passionately. 

Cisco sighed contently, the kiss was so wet from all of Lisa's juices and her tongue sliding into his mouth. 

"Mmm, the witch has been satisfied," she mumbled, "For now..." 

"What else can this young warrior do to please his beautiful witch?" Cisco asked eagerly. 

"First, the witch has a present for her new pet," Lisa replied, waggling her eyebrows playfully. She reached over to the velvet case, popping it open for Cisco's inspection. 

It was a thick, diamond studded collar with a thick silver chain. 

"Plus ten to charisma," Lisa purred as she buckled it around his neck. She adjusted the fit, asking sweetly, "Alignment?" 

"Neutral," Cisco said, smiling brightly and taking a deep breath. 

"Good," Lisa replied happily. She kept the end of the leash in her hand, releasing Cisco from the cuffs. 

He rubbed at his wrists, asking excitedly, "What now, my lady?" 

"The witch wants her new pet to make her come again," Lisa giggled and pulled the leash, making Cisco gasp, forcing him to sit up. "Mmm, but is his stamina high enough?" 

Cisco eagerly wrapped his arms around Lisa's waist, loving the tension around his neck as she kept her grip tight. "Oh, my stamina stats are maxed out, don't you worry." 

He playfully pushed her down on the bed, spreading her legs wide and diving back down to run his tongue over her pussy. She was still slick, groaning, "Fuck, you're so fucking wet." 

"Mmmph, I fuckin' love your fuckin' tongue," Lisa gasped, her thighs squeezing around Cisco's head, groaning. She had forgotten all about the fantasy now, her back curling off the bed as Cisco slid his fingers deep inside her and hooked them hard until she moaned. 

Cisco grinned to himself, loving how he could make this fierce goddess come apart at the seams, thrusting his fingers and using his thumb to rub her clit mercilessly. He sucked at her thigh, panting, "Fuck, you're beautiful, baby girl." 

"Baby," Lisa whined, "Mmmm, getting so close. Use your tongue, use your fucking tongue!" 

Cisco happily obliged, dipping his head back down to lick at her pussy, moaning loudly. His scalp was still aching from Lisa's insistent tugging, and his neck was chafing from the collar. 

God, it felt good. 

Even as his jaw threatened to give out, he kept fucking Lisa's slick cunt with his tongue, hitting that tender spot over and over in time with his fingers. When he heard Lisa scream and felt her body convulsing around him, he knew he was triumphant. 

He helped her through it, waiting until she was mewling softly, wiping off his mouth and grinning up at her. "Good, baby?" 

"Oh, so good," Lisa panted, winding her hand tightly around the leash and suddenly pulling hard. "So good this witch needs one more. Come on, baby... it's time to check out the limits of that stamina." 

Cisco eagerly climbed up Lisa's body, groaning at the bossy way she yanked the leash to get him exactly where she wanted. He lined himself up, grunting as his cock began to slowly slip inside her wet hole, groaning, "Fuck, baby girl... mmmph." 

Lisa threw one of her legs over Cisco's shoulders, pulling the leash down so she could kiss him hungrily. She started moaning as soon as Cisco started pounding into her, so slick and sensitive. It was absolute heaven. 

Lisa kept bucking her hips down, gritting her teeth to take every thrust as hard as she could, growling, "God, baby! Yes, yes, just like that!" 

Cisco let Lisa set the pace, snapping the leash like a whip and her nails dragging down his back. He fucked her until they were both writhing and sweating, both her legs spread wide over his shoulders. 

Her shoes had fallen off, her toes curling as Cisco worked her body over, slamming into her even harder. 

"Stamina check startin' to fail," Cisco groaned, kissing breathlessly along Lisa's throat. 

"Come on, baby," Lisa moaned beautifully, clawing his spine, "Come in me. Fill me the fuck up." 

"Fuck, yeah," Cisco purred, the lovely pressure building up inside of him exploding as his cock unloaded deep inside Lisa, grunting as he pounded every drop of come as deeply as he could. He could feel her tight cunt pulsing all around him, shuddering as he gasped, "Yes, baby, yes..." 

Lisa was a mewling wreck, struggling to catch her breath and kissing Cisco desperately. She let go of the leash, wrapping her arms around his neck, panting, "God, I love you." 

"I love you, too," Cisco sighed happily, grinning from ear to ear. They stay locked together for several moments, kissing softly as their racing hearts began to slow. 

Lisa unbuckled the jeweled collar, throwing it aside and running her fingers over the red marks left behind. "Mmmm...," she purred sweetly, "Oh, baby, that was worth... a million experience points." 

"Level up," Cisco giggled. 

"Alignment?" 

"Back to lawful good, baby. All the way." 

"Let me grab a drink, maybe a snack, and we can explore another dungeon," Lisa teased with an excited waggle of her eyebrows, picking at some of dried wax from Cisco's chest. 

Cisco was flustered, kissing her eagerly, "Oh, fuck. Yes. Absolutely yes. Maybe... we could try going through the backdoor of the dungeon this time?" 

"Ohhhh, hmm," Lisa giggled, her eyes twinkled with mischief. "That requires a very high level. Do you think you've earned enough experience for that, young warrior? There might be some more trials ahead of you." 

"I'm so ready," Cisco said earnestly, "Whatever awaits me, I can handle it." 

"I had a feeling you might want to embark on this quest," Lisa said, arching a slim brow. She smiled slyly, pointing to the bedside table at the small black bag. "If you are ready, look inside to accept your first task." 

Cisco leaned back, reaching for the bag excitedly. He peered inside, blinking as he found a gilded butt plug. "Ohhh... does the young warrior need to place this treasure inside the witch to gain access inside her forbidden dungeon?" 

Lisa grinned like a cat, giggling, "Oh, no, sweetie. That's for you. Before you enter my, ahem, forbidden dungeon? I'm going to play in yours." 

Cisco's heart fluttered, sighing dreamily, "God, baby girl. Are you a fuckin' fire elemental? Because you're getting so hot." 

"Oh, baby," Lisa drawled seductively, "You got a body like a D20 'cause I wanna roll you around all fuckin' night." 

"You must be one hell of a master rogue because you've completely stolen my heart, baby girl." 

"Is that a Greatsword between your legs, or are you just excited about your new quest?" 

Cisco groaned joyously, kissing her and pleading, "Marry me. Please. God, you're so fucking perfect." 

"You're adorable," Lisa giggled, playfully smacking at his hips, "Come on. This witch needs a snack!" 

Cisco got up, helping Lisa get them both cleaned up before obediently following her to the kitchen. Watching her laugh and smile while she made them something to eat, he knew he had never been happier. 

That sweet way she would bat her eyes at him and kiss his cheek made his heart skip a beat every time. He knew he had meant exactly what he had said. 

Lisa probably thought it was only silly pillow talk, but Cisco was completely serious. 

He was going to marry Lisa Snart one day, no doubt about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, smut fairy is totally unstoppable! This is a very special story I wrote for the very nice Hiver Frost Elf! Hope you like it! <3
> 
> (Happy early Birthday! :D)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Nimbus and Mardon hooked up in the wake of Clyde's death.

Sirens were still screaming in the distance when the doors of the safe house slammed shut behind them, Mark Mardon and Kyle Nimbus collapsing on the floor and trying to catch their breath. They had been running for blocks, managing to lose the pursuing cops on foot. 

It had been an arms deal, perfectly routine as far as such criminal activities went. But someone there was a fucking snitch, and the cops were waiting to arrest them the second they made the exchange. The resulting firefight had been violent and many officers had fallen. 

The Rogues had also suffered their own casualties. 

"We have to go back," Mardon was panting, wiping a hand across his face. It felt wet. It was blood, but not his own. 

"The fuck for?" Nimbus snapped, staring at Mardon in shock. "There's nothing left back there. Mick got out with the guns, Cold made it-" 

"Clyde." 

"Clyde is dead," Nimbus said flatly. 

"We have to go back," Mardon repeated, staring down at his bloody hands. 

"Mardon," Nimbus snapped, "Listen to me. Clyde is dead. That fuckin' pig West blew him away. There's nothing left to go back to except a fucking corpse." 

Mardon stood back up, checking his guns as he said, "I've got half a clip. I can do it. I can make it." 

Nimbus was right behind him, on his feet as he snarled, "Make it where? Are you kidding me? What the fuck are you talking about!" 

"He's still out there!" Mardon roared, "He's my little brother! I'm supposed to take care of him!" 

"You're done!" Nimbus bit back, easily disarming his fellow Rogue and dismantling his guns in seconds, letting the pieces fall to the floor. "Ain't nothin' left for you to do except bury him." 

"You fucking bastard, don't you fucking say that, fuck you!" Mardon swung for him, angry with grief, Nimbus easily dodging the punch. 

Nimbus sidestepped another sloppy blow, grabbing Mardon's shoulders and pushing him up against the door. He held him firmly in place, growling softly. 

"Let me go!" Mardon snarled furiously, his eyes damp and struggling to get free. "You fuckin' ugly bald fucked up snake lookin' motherfucker! Let me go right now!" 

Nimbus was not bothered by the insults, repeating stubbornly, "Clyde is dead. If you go back out there, you'll be dead, too." 

Mardon kept fighting, snapping his head forward and cracking Nimbus' nose. "Fuck you!" 

Nimbus growled, his nose immediately gushing blood and Mardon seized the opportunity to break away. He was trying to get the door open but Nimbus quickly snatched him up again, roughly pulling him backwards. They both struggled, stumbling away from the door and crashing into the cheap coffee table. 

The worn furniture collapsed from their combined weight, kicking and punching as they each tried to get the upper hand. Nimbus was a much more skilled combatant in hand to hand techniques, but Mardon's rage was giving him a definite edge. 

Nimbus was trying his best not to hurt his fellow Rogue; Mardon didn't care. 

Mardon was fighting with everything he had, his anguish making him lash out and struggle with a horrible intensity. He was starting to slow down, his muscles aching as his heart shattered in the wake of his failure. 

Clyde was his baby brother. He was supposed to protect him, look out for him. He should have never been at the deal, but he wanted to be more involved with the Rogues and Mark had finally given in. 

He hated himself for not being a better brother, for not seeing this coming. He growled mournfully, trying to push Nimbus off of him with no success. "Fuck... off!" 

"No," Nimbus replied simply. He was getting tired. His nose was definitely broken, his lip had been split along the way, and his head was absolutely pounding. Their bodies kept rutting together and the fury between was absolutely boiling. 

He had never seen Mardon this emotional before, and he couldn't help but think how beautiful he was so wrecked. He hated to see him in such pain, and he also mourned the loss of a fellow Rogue. 

They were all family. 

Nimbus finally managed to pin Mardon down against the side of the couch, using his hips to hold him in place and barking, "Enough!" 

Mardon's broad chest was heaving, his fingers curling defiantly into the front of Nimbus' shirt, clearly worn out but still trying to push him away. "We have to... it can't be... he can't be dead..." 

Nimbus' stern expression weakened. He'd always had a soft spot for Mardon. He'd also always had something very hard for him, but their paths had never quite run together towards that particular carnal destination. 

He couldn't help his mind from wandering down that way right now, especially with the way their hearts were both pounding and how tightly their bodies were pressed up against one another. 

They were fire and gasoline, enough passion to overload a volcano, and Cold had always been wise to keep them separate when assigning them their duties. They never agree on anything, and neither could stand being in the other's presence for long without starting a fight. Tonight had been a special exception because Clyde had wanted to step up to the plate. 

Mark hadn't been about to let his baby brother go anywhere without him. And yes, while he and Nimbus were not exactly bosom buddies, there was something about him that always got Mardon hot under the collar, and he had actually been looking forward to working with him. 

Now... what did it matter? 

What did anything fucking matter? 

Nimbus was doing his best to be sympathetic, but he was in a lot of pain, and he was frustrated. Tonight had been a fucking disaster. He ached for Clyde's loss and the suffering of his surviving brother, but he had to keep it together. He gritted his teeth, keeping Mardon firmly held down and hissing softly, "I'm sorry... but Clyde is gone." 

"No," Mardon protested, his lips drawn back in a terrible grimace. "I should have... we have to make sure..." 

"Shut up," Nimbus said gently, "It's done. We will live to fight another day, we will survive, and we will put a bullet in Detective West's head, I swear to you." 

Mardon was broken, tearful, shaking his head stubbornly. "I fucked up... I should have known..." 

"Not even Boss Cold saw this coming," Nimbus soothed, sniffing back some of the blood still oozing from his nose and swallowing it back. 

"What do I do," Mardon pleaded, trying to lift himself up, still desperately trying to fight. He had all of this rage and nowhere for it to go, screaming, "What the fuck am I supposed to do, Nimbus!" 

"Breathe," Nimbus snapped cruelly, "You take a fucking breath, and you get your shit together. We will figure this out." 

"Fuck you," Mardon sneered. 

"No, fuck you!" Nimbus snarled back. 

Nimbus wasn't sure who leaned in first, but their lips were suddenly crashing in a violent kiss, Mardon's arms winding possessively around his neck. The kiss became scorching in seconds, tasting of blood and sweat, Nimbus fighting for control as he slid his tongue over Mardon's soft lips. 

Nimbus had wanted this for so long, the terrible circumstances be damned, groaning when their noses bumped together and a hot flash of pain took his breath away. 

"What?" Mardon snapped, his eyes searching Nimbus' in confusion. 

"You broke my fuckin' nose, you asshole," Nimbus growled, biting at Mardon's neck hard enough to bruise. 

Mardon cried out, grunting pleasurably as Nimbus began to suck hard, biting down again to leave his mark. Mardon nipped at Nimbus' ear, hissing, "I think it's a fuckin' improvement." 

"Fuck you, bitch," Nimbus scoffed defiantly, licking his lips. 

"Let's fuckin' go," Mardon snapped, his eyes wide and nearly black with lust. "You really wanna fuck me?" 

"Fuck yeah," Nimbus grunted, jumping to his feet and hauling Mardon up behind him. 

The safe house had several bedrooms, and Mardon was impatiently dragging Nimbus to the closest one. He kicked off his boots, struggling to get his pants down before Nimbus was on him, dragging him down to the bed. 

Nimbus hated how his eyes watered in pain every time Mardon bumped his nose, fuck, did that hurt. It did little to slow him down though, stripping all of Mardon's clothes off in a frenzy and gazing over his chiseled body appreciatively. 

"God, you're so fuckin' fine," Nimbus sighed. 

"Yeah?" Mardon smirked. "You look like somebody beat the fuck out of you." 

"Keep it up and we'll be fuckin' twins," Nimbus warned, taking off his shoulder holsters and shirt. 

"Yeah, yeah," Mardon snarked, searching the bedside table for lube and condoms. There was only one, handing it over to Nimbus as he said, "Make it fuckin' count." 

"You ain't gotta worry about that," Nimbus promised as he pushed his pants down around his knees, spreading Mardon's legs wide as he slathered lube between his cheeks. He rolled the condom quickly, lining his cock up with a grunt. It was all so hurried, rough, the only moment of leisure was when he first pushed inside of him. 

They both froze, startled at the sudden rush of emotion at being so intimately connected. There was something here beyond all the primal rage and the need to tear each other apart. Something tender, something passionate... something else that made Nimbus' eyes tear up that wasn't his busted nose. 

Mardon was equally entranced, his hands tracing along Nimbus' smooth skin. His broken heart was too full, pushed to its limits, and he couldn't let this vulnerable moment linger. He swallowed audibly, his voice strained as he whispered, "We gonna fuck or what?" 

Nimbus snapped out of it, baring his teeth and rearing his hips back, thrusting forward. He gasped at the sudden heat of Mardon's body wrapping up every inch of him, groaning as he pushed all the way in. 

Mardon's head flopped limp against the pillows as Nimbus went from zero to a hundred, fucking him savagely. It was all he could do to hold on, clinging to Nimbus' shoulders and cursing as the bed shook beneath them. 

Nimbus was relentless, slamming his cock as deeply as he could every time, pounding away at Mardon's tight body like a jackhammer. He grunted when Mardon pulled him down for a kiss, savoring the taste of blood mixing in with their spit. 

Mardon pushed his tongue against Nimbus', groaning happily. Now that he'd had time to adjust, he was bouncing his hips down to meet Nimbus', smacking at his ass and cheering him on, "Fuck, yeah! Come on, fuckin' get it! Fuck me! Fuck! Goddamn, Nimbus!" 

Nimbus loved every second of it, flashing a wicked smile before hoisting Mardon's legs up. He held onto his ankles, tilting his body back as he fucked him even deeper, bottoming out with a satisfied moan. "Fuck," he panted, "Your ass feels fuckin' awesome..." 

"Goddamn right it does," Mardon growled, slipping his hand down to start jerking himself off. He cried out when Nimbus started pounding him impossibly harder, his feet curling up. "Goddamn, Nimbus! Fu-uuuck!" 

Nimbus grinned, panting and sweating, but never slowing down. He absolutely ravaged Mardon, their skin smacking in time with the frantic squeaking of the bed. "Takin' it like a fuckin' champ," he praised, "Fuck, you look so good takin' my dick." 

"Shut the fuck up about it and give me some more," Mardon growled, yelping when Nimbus gave him a particularly nasty slam. 

"Roll the fuck over," Nimbus commanded as he pulled out, "Maybe get your face down in those pillows so I don't have to hear your fuckin' mouth." 

Mardon cackled, turning over onto his stomach as he snapped back, "Oh, this works great for me. Now I ain't gotta fuckin' look at your fucked up mug." 

"You're such a cheap bitch," Nimbus snorted, relubing his cock and mounting him again. He slid back in easily, immediately going for broke as he hissed in Mardon's ear, "Lemme know when you come up with somethin' else, huh?" 

Mardon couldn't respond, his fingers clawing at the sheets as Nimbus fucked him down mercilessly into the mattress. He was pressed all the way down, Nimbus taking all that he wanted and Mardon loved it. 

Nimbus was fucking Mardon as hard as he'd ever dared fuck anyone, impressed with how the other man took it all and moaned for more. He had to press closer, his hips rolling with more finesse now as he tugged Mardon up by his hair for a kiss. 

Mardon whimpered against Nimbus' lips, the pressure down between his legs pulsing uncomfortably. Fuck, he wanted to come. Nimbus' cock felt fucking fantastic and this angle was amazing, but he wanted release. 

Nimbus was also getting close, his breathing more frantic, groaning softly, "Gonna fuckin' bust." 

"Come on," Mardon snarled, slithering a hand beneath himself to grab his cock, feverishly stroking himself. "Get that goddamn nut, come on!" 

Nimbus growled, the last few slams of his hips making Mardon scream, coming hard enough to make his head spin. He could feel Mardon clenching around him as he brought himself to climax, shuddering together in bliss. 

Mardon was struggling to catch his breath in the aftermath, grinning dumbly as he purred, "Mmmm... wow." 

"Uh huh," Nimbus panted in agreement, groaning as he rolled off of Mardon and flopped down on the bed beside him. He pulled off the condom and threw it over on the floor to worry with later. He reached down into his pants to grab his smokes and his lighter. 

Mardon turned onto his side, stretching out his body with a very pleased mumble. He watched Nimbus light up a cigarette, waiting for him to take a puff before reaching over to snag it away from him. 

Nimbus laughed, teasing, "Thought you didn't smoke?" 

Mardon quirked his brows, inhaling deeply as he chuckled, "After gettin' fucked like that, anybody would need a fuckin' cigarette." 

"Keep it," Nimbus snorted, lighting up another one. He sat back against the headboard, lifting up his arm in invitation. 

Mardon was surprised but accepted, scooting over to cuddle up against Nimbus' side. They spent several minutes in silence, catching their breath and ashing their cigarettes on the floor. 

Nimbus blew a few smoke rings, glancing down at Mardon with a smirk. 

"Man of many talents," Mardon remarked dryly. 

"Hey, you just got to experience my very best one," Nimbus snarked, putting his cigarette out in an old half full beer can that had been left behind. He swirled it around to make sure the butt would go out, offering it to Mardon. 

"Fuck, man. You ain't kidding," Mardon snorted, taking one last puff before depositing his cigarette, "I haven't been fucked like that since high school." 

Nimbus gave the can another shake, smiling smugly as he got settled down beside Mardon. "Anytime you wanna bang," he said, "I'm fuckin' down." 

"Yeah, we'll see," Mardon replied casually as if they both didn't already know this would definitely be happening again. 

Nimbus closed his eyes, lightly brushing his thumb over Mardon's shoulder. He fidgeted for a moment, asking hesitantly, "You all right?" 

"Not really," Mardon replied honestly, "Still pretty fucked up." 

"I know," Nimbus said quietly, wishing he was better at being comforting. He frowned, pressing a quick kiss to Mardon's forehead, saying, "I swear to you. Somehow, some fuckin' way, Detective West will fuckin' pay for this." 

Mardon nodded, afraid to verbally respond because he was certain his voice would crack. He lifted up his head when he heard buzzing, watching Nimbus fumble around to grab his phone out of his pants. 

Nimbus had gotten a text message, scanning over it quickly as he said, "It's Boss. He says stay put until we hear from him." He paused, smirking when a second message came through. "And he says there's condoms in the upstairs bathroom." 

Mardon actually laughed, snickering, "How the fuck does he know." 

"That's why he's the Boss," Nimbus said with a shrug, "He knows everything." 

Mardon's smile fell, thinking about Clyde and saying bitterly, "Yeah, well, he didn't know about the fuckin' rat..." 

"Hey," Nimbus soothed, pulling him close, "Don't you worry about that. We'll get this shit figured out. God help whoever fucked over the Rogues because I will personally introduce that bastard to a grand tour of their lower intestinal tract." 

"Sweet talker," Mardon sighed with a sad little smile. In his own twisted way, Nimbus was quite caring, and it meant the world to Mardon in that moment. 

"Just the fuckin' sweetest," Nimbus agreed with a snort. He peeked over at Mardon, wishing he knew something else to say to make him feel better. "So..." 

"So," Mardon repeated, glancing up at him. 

"Well, we got some time to kill." 

"Whatcha got in mind?" 

"Find some liquor, get our asses upstairs," Nimbus suggested casually, "Bed's bigger. We could fuck again and think up all the nasty ways we're gonna kill Detective West?" 

Mardon felt his heart honest to God fuckin' flutter, grinning wide. "Damn," he laughed, "Here I am thinkin' you're a fuckin' idiot, and then you go and have a genius idea like that." 

"Ha! Just shows what you know, ya' fuckin' dumbass... Trust me, babydoll," Nimbus purred, leaning down for a heated kiss, "I got lots of good ideas. Really nasty ones, too." 

"Oh, yeah?" Mardon smirked, his eyes drinking in Nimbus' sly smile. He could already tell; they were definitely gonna be doin' this a lot. "Can't fuckin' wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more fun times with Misty Weather! Okay, I know it's not the best ship name, but that's what I'm going with because it makes me smile! Obviously not an epilogue, but sort of a little blast from the past of CHC. Enjoy the smuts!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has a wonderful time with Mick and Boss Cold, but nothing is quite what it seems.

"Can you take it all, Mr. Allen?" Cold's impossibly smooth voice drawled, his fingers like brands against Barry's skin as he squeezed his hips. It was a challenge, asking again, "Can you?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry croaked, his arms tugging against the ropes keeping them pinned in place at his back. 

"Remember last time you tried to take this much didn't go so well," Cold reminded him gently. 

"I can take you both, sir," Barry insisted stubbornly. He would use the safe word if he had to, but he was determined to do this. 

"Mmm, dunno, Boss," Mick's gravelly tone rumbled, a thick finger testing the stretch of Barry's hole, "Still feels real fuckin' tight." 

"I can do it this time," Barry pleaded, his cock jumping insistently as he writhed in Cold's lap. "I can take it, sir." 

He was straddled across Cold's lap, his ass already stretched by eager fingers and thick toys, trussed up like a gorgeous present for Mick and Cold to enjoy. Neither one had given a single taste of cock yet, and Barry was dying to be filled. 

Cold lifted Barry's chin, his icy eyes scanning over his face as he purred, "So eager for it, aren't you?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry whined, arching his ass back towards Mick behind him, hoping he would give him something. 

A hard crack across his cheeks was what he earned, Mick growling, "Easy now... did Boss say you could have my cock yet?" 

"No, Mr. Rory," Barry cried softly, tears in his eyes from the sting and the shame. He was so hungry for penetration, trying to press down against Cold's thighs for some relief. 

Cold slowly unbuttoned his pants to release his cock, looking over Barry thoughtfully. He was fully dressed as usual, Barry naked except for the ropes tying his arms back. Mick had removed his shirt, but his pants were merely bunched down around his knees. 

Barry could feel the heat coming off both of them in heavywaves, the tension thickening as he waited for something to finally give. Cold was rubbing his cock against his so softly that he wanted to scream because it wasn't enough, and Mick's was teasing against his asscheek and sure to send him into absolute madness. 

"Let Mick fuck you first," Cold finally decided with a small tilt of his head. 

"Yes, sir," Barry nodded, bowing his head down against Cold's chest, offering his ass up to the large man behind him. 

Mick chuckled softly, rough hands spreading Barry's cheeks as he slid his cock up against his hole. "Thanks, Boss. I'll fuck him real good for you." 

"Much obliged," Cold purred, petting his long fingers through Barry's hair. 

Barry's breath became frantic, reaching a high pitch when Mick began to push inside of him. The first few inches slid in flawlessly, gasping loudly and his hands clawing at the air. Mick was thick, very thick, and he felt so full already. 

"Damn, Boss," Mick groaned, fucking into Barry with quick thrusts, "He feels fuckin' fantastic... no wonder you love playin' with him so much." 

"Isn't he perfect," Cold said proudly, clearly enjoying showing Barry off. 

Barry moaned as Mick pushed in all the way, pulling back slowly only to slam right back in and make him cry out. He panted and whined, Mick fucking him so hard that he was sliding up Cold's lap. 

Cold was watching Barry's face intently, chuckling devilishly as he said, "Mmm, look at him, taking all of your cock... and I bet he still wants more." 

Barry couldn't deny it, his eyes pleading up at Cold as he gasped, "Pl-please!" 

"What do you think, Mick?" Cold asked coyly, "Think we'll both fit?" 

"Let me fuck him a little more," Mick replied, his big hands squeezing Barry's ass, spreading his cheeks apart to watch his cock moving in and out of his slick hole. "Why don't you fuck his face a bit, huh? I bet he'd like that." 

"Mmm, would you like that, Mr. Allen?" Cold taunted, grabbing a firm handful of Barry's hair. 

"Yes, sir," Barry begged, his body jerking from Mick's ruthless thrusting, "Please. Let me suck your dick." 

"First, you need to thank Mick for what a good job he's doing," Cold insisted. "He's being so very nice to you, letting you have his cock." 

"Thank you, Mr. Rory," Barry obediently panted, groaning as Mick fucked him a little harder. "Thank you so much..." 

"Thank you for what?" Cold pressed. "Use your words, Mr. Allen. Tell Mick what you're thankful for." 

Mick slowed down immediately, playing right along with the little game. He grinned, sticking a finger inside Barry's hole alongside his cock, teasing, "Yeah, come on... tell me." 

Barry shuddered shamefully, stammering, "Th-thank you for your cock. Thank you for fucking me so good with it..." He mewled pitifully when Mick added a second finger to his stretched hole, moaning, "Thank you for making me feel so good." 

"That's better," Cold praised, pushing Barry down towards his cock, grinning as he eagerly took him into his mouth. "Such a good boy for me..." 

Mick started up again, fucking Barry hard and playfully smacking his ass. Cold held Barry firmly in place and began to thrust his hips upwards, his cock brushing up against the back of Barry's throat until he almost gagged. 

"Easy," Cold soothed, "Relax... you can take it, I know you can." 

Barry mumbled lightly, but obeyed, opening up his throat and swallowing down as Cold pushed inside. Tears glistened in his eyes, his body aching with passion as Cold started slamming his cock into his mouth. He let his jaw relax, Cold fucking his face savagely. 

"Takes it like he was made for it," Mick commented, grunting as he gave Barry's ass a good smack. 

"He's such a good boy," Cold purred happily, "Mmmm, Mr. Allen. You look so fuckin' pretty all full of cock... you love this, don't you. Sucking me off while Mick is inside of you." 

Barry moaned, wishing he could speak, but Cold already knew he loved every second. It was heaven to be used so roughly, speared magnificently at both ends and hearing these men sing his praises. 

"Maybe next time I'll let all the Rogues have a turn with you," Cold suggested, gritting his teeth as he continued to thrust his hips, "Axel, Nimbus, Mardon... let them all fuck you, fill you up until all their come is just pouring out of your cute little ass..." 

Barry's cheeks burned, flushing bright red all over at how hot that sounded. Christ, it made his cock so hard it throbbed to think about being that full. He could imagine it so clearly, all of those men having their with his tight little body, one after another. He whined quietly, closing his eyes. 

"Fuck, Boss," Mick growled, "You're gonna make me come talkin' so dirty. His ass just feels too fuckin' good, I want bust in him so badly." 

"Mmmm, give it a rest, Mick," Cold ordered, pulling Barry off his cock to let him breathe, "You're not coming until I say so, not until we're both filling him up." 

Mick nodded, slowing down to a crawl and pulling out. He rubbed the head of his cock all around Barry's gaping hole. He reached between Barry's legs, fondling his balls and his leaking cock. "Fuck, he is so fuckin' wet," he snickered, "He's fuckin' dripping." 

"Let me see," Cold purred, reaching down to caress Barry's cock. 

Barry moaned, biting down on his lip and doing everything in his willpower not to come. Cold's fingers were playing in the wetness all around his head while Mick's thick fingers squeezed his shaft and rubbed his balls. He loved having both men touching him, and it was just enough pressure he could send himself off the edge of bliss. 

But no, not yet. 

He hadn't been given permission. 

"Beautiful," Cold sighed, removing his hand and licking over his fingers. He kissed Barry's forehead, pursing his lips in a thought pout as he said, "I think you're ready, Mr. Allen." 

"God, yes, sir. Please," Barry nodded eagerly. 

"Come here," Cold commanded, grabbing Barry's waist and pulling him forward. He added a fresh coat of lube to his cock, guiding Barry's slowly down on top of it. "There you go, take it all... good boy." 

Barry sighed contently, the familiar feeling of his boyfriend inside of him was always perfection. He gasped when he felt Mick already pressing behind him, rubbing his cock eagerly around his hole. 

"Now," Cold said sternly, petting Barry's cheek, "You're going to take both of us like a good boy, Mr. Allen. Once we've used up your tight little hole, then you can come. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry replied, his lip trembling in anticipation. 

"Fuck, yeah," Mick agreed, grumbling pleasurably as the head of his cock began to press in. 

Barry gasped, trying to instinctively shy away from the new intrusion, but Cold held him firmly in place. He whimpered, his gasp escalating into a frantic moan when he felt Mick's thick cock pressing in alongside Cold's. The stretch was incredible, his head falling against Cold's chest as he sobbed. 

"Perfect fit," Cold praised, cradling Barry close and petting his hair. 

Mick pushed deeper, sliding back and forth with delicate precision, making sure that Barry was open enough to really take them both without injury. Cold didn't move for now, simply held Barry and kissed his hair soothingly. 

Barry moaned as Mick finally pushed all the way in, amazed that they had both actually fit inside of him, his cock pulsing and balls aching from being so full. 

"He's good and open," Mick said with a grin. "Can't wait to fill him the fuck up." 

"Patience," Cold scolded lightly, gently tilting Barry's head up so he could look at him. He smiled, telling him, "We're going to fuck you now, Mr. Allen. Are you ready?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry replied obediently. He tried to take a deep breath, but it was stolen away as Cold bucked his hips up. Mick followed with a quick thrust that made him cry out, and Cold slammed into him again. They each took turns, their cocks working in tandem as they each thrusted up inside of him. 

Mick was impatient, grabbing the rope that held Barry's arms and pulling until he was sitting up straight. He began fucking him hard, bouncing his hips down on Cold's cock, working in sync to slam into his slick hole. "Such a good fuckin' boy, takin' all this fuckin' cock," Mick purred, biting at Barry's shoulder. 

All Barry could do was sob and scream, marveling at how full he was as both men's cocks moved inside of him. He was at the very limit of what his body could take, moaning deliciously when Mick slowed down so Cold could pound up into him. 

Cold began to stutter, clearly resisting the urge to come so soon, and Mick began to roughly fuck Barry again. The sounds of their cocks moving together was wet and dirty, Barry's face burning with the heat of so much stimulation. He began to lose track of whose hands were where, whimpering when someone pinched his nipples. 

"Gettin' close, Boss," Mick warned, panting hard. 

"Stop," Cold ordered. "Come closer to me." 

Mick whined, but obeyed, scooting up as close as he could with Barry between them. 

"Mr. Allen," Cold said, his voice calm although he was a bit breathless, "Fuck yourself on our cocks. Make us come in you..." 

"Oh, God," Barry whimpered. It was one thing to let Mick and Cold fuck him. He didn't know if he could stand to do it himself, lifting his hips up on shaking legs and dropping down with a loud groan. "I don't know... I..." 

"Don't you want to come?" Cold teased, petting Barry's cock in the same sweet way he had been petting his hair. 

"Yes, sir," Barry panted, more determined now with this new motivation. He had to tilt his hips to get the angle right, pulling away and pushing back down with a loud cry. He could feel their cocks stretching his hole with every movement, he could hear the wet slide of flesh, and he loved it when he bottomed out on both of them, maddeningly full. 

Because his arms were still tied, he only use his legs to power his movements, fucking himself on their thick cocks as fast as he could. He adored how he could make both of these powerful men gasp and moan so shamelessly, fucking himself even harder, his cock bouncing against his stomach as he moved. 

"Boss," Mick gasped in warning. 

"Me, too." Cold was right there with him, nodding as he panted, "Come on, Mick... come with me." 

Barry whined desperately, bouncing his ass frantically. He screamed when Mick and Cold suddenly took back over, Mick roughly grabbing his hips and ferociously unloading inside of him. Cold was shuddering all over, bucking his hips up as they both pumped their come deep in Barry's ass. 

Barry could feel the hot seed already dribbling out of him, sobbing as they continued to fuck him, the sensation so much more slick now from their loads. "Please," he pleaded tearfully, "I need to come..." 

"You've been such a good boy," Cold panted, his hips still rocking as he grabbed Barry's weeping dick. "You can come now... come on, Mr. Allen. Come for us." 

Barry sobbed and jerked, thrusting into Cold's hand as he slammed down on the thick cocks still stuffed inside of him. He came so hard that his head felt light, twitching as he spilled all over Cold's hand. 

Heaven. 

It was absolutely heaven. 

Barry collapsed against Cold's chest, sobbing lightly from being fucked so thoroughly and experiencing such an intense orgasm, crying, "Thank you, sir... thank you, Mr. Rory... my, God... thank you." 

"You are very welcome," Cold sighed happily, his cock sliding out carefully. "Mmm, Mick, why don't you get Mr. Allen all cleaned up," he suggested, rubbing the back of Barry's neck affectionately. 

"Would love to," Mick rumbled eagerly. He pulled out with a grunt, patting Barry's hip. "Come on, lift up that pretty ass for me." 

Barry was trembling from absolute muscle failure, but he forced his noodly legs to move, arching his back and offering himself to Mick. He felt so empty now, gasping when Mick's tongue was there to fill him back up, licking and sucking at the lovely mess they had left behind. 

Mick reached in with his fingers, teasing in a small circle as he scooped up some of the liquids with his fingers, greedily sucking them into his mouth. "He tastes really fuckin' good full of our load..." 

"I bet he does," Cold chuckled, kissing Barry's forehead as he began to untie the ropes. 

Barry's arms felt sore and numb, murmuring happily as Cold's skilled fingers massaged feeling back into them. He had to kiss him, sighing sweetly as Mick continued to lick between his legs. "I love you," he gushed, cradling his boyfriend's gorgeous face, "So very much." 

"I know," Cold replied passionately, his eyes warm and full of affection. 

"I'm gettin' emotional down here," Mick mumbled, chuckling as his tongue gave Barry's stretched hole one last hungry lick. 

Barry laughed, groaning softly as he felt something thick and hard pushing into him, gasping, "Wh-what is that?" 

"Plugging your pretty hole up," Mick informed him, patting his butt affectionately, "Keepin' you nice and open... 'cause we are definitely doin' that again." 

"Definitely," Cold agreed. 

Barry blushed, snuggling up against Cold. He sighed happily when Mick joined them, enjoying the press of his hot body against his back. He closed his eyes, satisfied from head to toe. He definitely needed a break before going another round, and maybe something to eat. 

"Breakfast," he heard Cold say. 

"Breakfast," Barry mumbled contently. "That's a great idea." 

"Breakfast is ready," Cold said more firmly, his fingers softly moving through Barry's hair. "Wake up." 

Barry blinked, his eyes snapping open and looking around in confusion. Mick was nowhere to be seen, and Barry was wearing the same pajamas from last night. Cold was dressed for the day, always the early riser, nudging a tray of food towards him. 

A dream, Barry realized, his face flushing brightly. 

It was all a dream. 

"Something the matter?" Cold asked smoothly, quirking a curious brow. 

"I'm good," Barry squeaked, clearing his throat, reaching down to readjust himself. God, just _thinking_ about his dream was getting him hot. "I'm so very good." 

Cold smirked, deciding to move the tray of food to the foot of the bed, sitting down beside Barry. He knew his boyfriend's body language very well, his hands sliding the front of his pajamas as he teased, "How good?" 

Barry moaned when Cold's nimble fingers ghosted over the hard bulge in his pants, nodding as he replied, "Oh, sooo very good." 

"What's got you so worked up this morning?" Cold purred, teasing along the length of his shaft. 

"I-I had this really sexy dream," Barry admitted, his eyes fluttering as Cold continued to caress him. "It was you... and Mick... and... it was really freakin' hot." 

"Why, Mr. Allen," Cold chuckled, clearly delighted, slipping his hand down into Barry's pants to squeeze his cock, "You naughty boy..." 

"Oh, God," Barry gasped, his hips bucking up slowly into Cold's palm. He loved how Cold was looking at him right now, hungry and wanting. "Uh huh," he confirmed, smiling shyly, "It was very, very naughty." 

"Well, then," Cold purred in that perfectly velvet voice of his, "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'oh, it's the tired ol' "it's really just a dream" cliche! I really wanted to write some Coldflashwave, but I couldn't see Boss Cold being willing to share, sooo here ya' go! Hope you guys like it! <3
> 
> Special props to Hiver Frost Elf for their story [Flash(wave) Mob](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299014) for giving me all the Coldflashwave / Flashwave feels for this smut! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry finally comes home, and Barry has to trust Cold's judgment.

Barry was absolutely trembling in the back of the limo, staring anxiously out the window. His foot was tapping, fingers twitching, and his teeth working at his lower lip with a carnivorous ferocity. 

"Barry," Cold's voice purred softly, a cool hand pressing against his thigh and squeezing, "Calm down." 

Barry's eyes fluttered, nodding frantically. 

"Breathe for me." 

Barry took a deep breath, his pulse beginning to descend as ordered. That beautiful voice always worked its way directly into his brain, and he was powerless to resist its command. 

"I know you're excited," Cold said soothingly, "But you'll put yourself in a fit if you don't calm down." 

"There's a part of me that still thinks this is all a dream," Barry gushed, looking back out the window to the prison where his father had been trapped for so many years. 

Today was finally the day Henry Allen was being freed. 

Thanks to Boss Cold's efforts and a little bit of help from Joe West, Henry was coming home today. 

"It's very real," Cold promised him, patting his knee. 

"Thank you," Barry sighed, beaming happily, "For everything." He leaned forward, trying to steal a kiss. 

Cold caught his jaw, smirking faintly as he looked over Barry's lips. He hummed, pretending to consider whether or not he was going to allow it. 

"Please, sir?" Barry pleaded playfully. 

Cold growled softly at the 'sir', pressing a heated kiss against Barry's mouth. "You wicked thing," he purred, "Teasing me right before I'm going to meet your father." 

"You'll have to punish me later," Barry chuckled. 

"Careful," Cold warned him, his thumb gently stroking over his chin, "Or it'll be a punishment you may not enjoy." 

Barry flushed, heat prickling beneath his collar as he asked, "Mmm, your belt?" 

"Keep pushing me and you'll find out," Cold promised with a smirk. 

Barry knew he could only tease Cold so much before he got truly aggravated with him. Although that did come with its own unique set of pleasures, he wanted his boyfriend in a good mood to meet his father. 

"I'll be good," Barry said softly, smiling when Cold kissed him again. He sat back in his seat, eyes focused out the window once more for any sign of his father. 

"Perhaps you should have come alone," Cold mused. 

"Why?" Barry asked, glancing over at him with a little smile. "Never met anyone's parents before?" 

"No," was the flat reply. 

"Are you nervous?" Barry teased, delighted by the idea. 

"You really want the belt tonight, don't you," Cold drawled, scowling, "I do not get nervous." 

Barry grinned. He wasn't about to argue, gasping when he saw the doors of the prison finally open and his father step outside. "He's here! He's really here!" 

Jerry was already opening the door of the limo, Barry tumbling out and breaking into a dead run to greet his father. 

"Hey, slugger!" Henry cried, dropping his bag to embrace his son. He squeezed him tight, pressing tearful kisses into his hair. 

Barry immediately started sobbing with joy, hugging his father and blubbering happy nonsense. He was absolutely thrilled to be holding his father as a free man. 

"My boy," Henry soothed, "Thank you. Thank you for never giving up on me. I love you so much, kiddo." 

"I love you," Barry gushed, grinning wide and trying not to snot all over his father. "Oh, my God. You're here. You're really free, and, and, and my God. No more inches, no more phone calls, you're really here!" 

"Damn right," Henry chuckled warmly, kissing his son's forehead and giving him one last big hug. He nodded towards the limo, teasing, "I think your boyfriend is waiting for us." 

Cold was standing by the open door with Jerry, patiently watching them with a small smile. 

"Right! Come on!" Barry said excitedly, grabbing his father's arm and his bag for him, "I can't wait for you to meet him!" 

Henry let Barry lead him back to the car, smiling as he offered to shake Cold's hand, saying, "Leonard Snart? Henry Allen. I understand I have you to thank for my freedom. Thank you." 

"The pleasure is mine," Cold assured him, giving his hand a firm shake, "Anything for Barry." 

"That's what a father likes to hear," Henry nodded with approval. 

Cold gestured to the limo, asking politely, "Shall we?" 

"Please," Henry said quickly, "I have no desire to stay here any longer than necessary." 

Barry climbed in first, eagerly pouring them all glasses of champagne. Henry sat down across from him, and Cold took his place back beside him. 

Jerry shut the door and took his place behind the wheel, driving them back home. 

"Congratulations on your freedom, Mr. Allen," Cold said, his voice holding a subtle purr as he raised his glass to Henry's. 

Barry shivered at the title, trying not to think much of it. He was talking to his father, after all. 

"I will gladly drink to that," Henry laughed, clinking his glass with Cold's and Barry's. He took a long sip, coughing softly and clearing his throat. He tilted his head, saying shyly, "Sorry, it's been a little while since I've had anything to drink." 

"Quite all right, _Mr. Allen_ ," Cold assured him, sparing Barry a sly little smile. 

Barry's cheeks flushed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the gangster. He only ever called Barry that when they were being intimate. 

Very intimate. 

Cold winked, looking back at Henry as he said, "I have a room ready and waiting for you. Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Mr. Allen." 

Oh, that dirty rat was doing it on purpose! 

"Please, call me Henry!" Henry insisted, tipping his glass back with more success. 

Thank God, Barry sighed to himself in relief. He didn't know that his body would behave itself if he heard Cold purr 'Mr. Allen' one more time. 

"Are you sure?" Cold asked, raising a brow. "I'm not usually so informal with people I've just met..." He paused, slowly licking his lips as he added huskily, "Mr. Allen." 

Barry nearly choked on his champagne. 

"Seriously," Henry chuckled warmly, "You're offering me your home, your hospitality, and you've made my son a happy man. Call me Henry." 

"Very well," Cold relented, "You may call me Leonard." 

"No 'Boss Cold'?" Henry laughed. 

"No," Cold replied with a smirk, "Len is also fine, if you so wish." 

"I can live with Leonard," Henry nodded, a moment of emotion warring on his face as added breathlessly, "Thank you again. For everything." 

"My pleasure," Cold said, finishing off his champagne with a rare and genuine smile. 

"Are you hungry, Dad?" Barry asked, grabbing the bottle of champagne and refilling all of their glasses. "Jerry, the driver, super nice guy, and he's also a fantastic chef! He can make you anything you want." 

"I wouldn't mind a steak the size of Texas and a cold beer," Henry said thoughtfully, smiling brightly at his son, "And a scalding hot shower to wash all this prison funk off." 

"I think that's totally doable," Barry chuckled. They continued to chat excitedly all the way back to Cold's compound, and Barry was proud when his father let out an impressed whistle as they drove through the gates. 

"Not bad," Henry teased. 

As they pulled up front, Barry saw Lisa, Mardon and Nimbus were waiting for them. 

Barry worried for a moment that his father would be put off by so many people, especially since neither Nimbus or Mardon exactly screamed friendly. To his surprise, Henry was all smiles as they exited the limo. 

He even reached out to hug Nimbus, laughing, "Well, look at you! Hey, Kyle!" 

Barry cringed, not thinking the assassin would be much on hugging, but he was surprised again when Nimbus hugged him back. 

"Hey, Doc!" Nimbus greeted with a crooked grin. "Good to see you on the outside!" 

"Good to be seen," Henry agreed, nodding towards Mardon, "And this must be Mark?" 

"Mark Mardon," Mardon said, shaking hands with Henry, "Nice to meet ya', Doc. Appreciate you fixing' up Nimbus while he was in." 

"No problem at all," Henry said with a humble shrug of his shoulders. He looked to Lisa, asking, "And this is...?" 

"Lisa Snart," Lisa purred, slinking over to pull Henry into a big hug and to kiss his cheek, "It's lovely to meet you, Daddy Allen! Welcome to the family!" 

Henry actually blushed, saying politely, "Thank you very much, Miss Snart. I appreciate that." 

"Come on, Dad," Barry said, taking his father's arm and leading him inside. "I'll take you up to your room, and you can get settled, okay?" 

"Sure, sure, sounds good, slugger," Henry nodded, taking a deep breath as Barry walked him upstairs. 

"You okay?" Barry asked quietly. 

"I'm good, son," Henry promised him, "It's just a lot... all at once. But I'm good. This is just... wow." 

"Yeah," Barry agreed with a grin, "Its pretty crazy. I still have trouble believing it sometimes." 

He showed Henry into one the massive guest rooms, saying, "This is your room. Bathroom is through that door there. Me and Len are down at the end of the hall. There's clothes in the closet for you. Lisa helped me, I had to guess on the sizes..." 

Henry was looking all around, plopping down on the edge of the bed. He was quiet, nodding along as Barry spoke. 

Barry frowned, sitting down beside him and asking, "You okay, Dad?" 

"Been in prison a long time," Henry said, his lips pulled back in a strained smile, "Rooms seem too big, lights are too bright." He sucked in a shaky breath. "It's a lot, son." 

Barry leaned against his father, taking his hand and smiling brightly as he said, "I know, Dad. I mean, I don't know, but I'm here. We'll get through this together." 

Henry's eyes were getting damp again, kissing Barry's forehead as he sighed, "I love you, slugger." 

"I love you, too," Barry replied, smiling sweetly, "Everything is gonna be fine, I promise." 

"Baby steps, kiddo," Henry chuckled, giving his son a friendly nudge. 

"Everything to your liking?" Cold's voice called out from the open doorway. 

"Great," Henry said quickly, wiping at his eyes, "Thank you." 

"Barry," Cold said firmly, "Why don't you let your father get settled, hmm? I'll let Jerry know what to prepare for dinner. Steaks the size of Texas, yes?" 

"Perfect," Henry agreed. 

Barry pouted a little, giving his father one last hug before getting up to join Cold. He shivered when Cold's hand gently rested on his neck, saying, "You just relax, Dad. You need anything, just call for us, okay?" 

Cold squeezed Barry's neck softly, saying, "We'll let you rest, Henry. Dinner will be ready by six o'clock." 

"And seriously, you need anything at all," Barry went on, "Just let us know, okay?" 

"Thanks, slugger," Henry said with a tired smile. "I will, I promise. I'll see you guys a little later, okay?" 

"Okay, there's towels in the bathroom and soap and-" 

"I'm sure Henry can handle it from here," Cold cut him off sharply, shifting his fingers up into Barry's hair and giving a small tug, "Let's go." 

"Bye, Dad!" Barry exclaimed as Cold steered him quickly out of the room and down the hallway. He pouted, complaining under his breath, "You didn't have to rush me out of there like that." 

"Yes, I did," Cold replied with a snort, leading him into their bedroom. 

"I just wanted to make sure he's okay!" Barry protested, fussing as Cold pushed him towards the bed. 

"Barry," Cold scolded, "Your father has been in prison for many years. He needs time to adjust." 

"He said he's fine!" Barry argued. "My dad is one of the strongest people I know. If something was wrong, he would have told me." 

"No, he wouldn't have," Cold countered, "Because he's your father and you're his son. He is not going to tell you how difficult this is for him. Trust me. That is a man who needs space to breathe." 

"You do not know my father better than me!" Barry snapped, surprised how angry he was at the insinuation. 

Cold's lip twitched at Barry's raised voice, his entire body tensing as he replied, "I may not know your father very well, but I do know criminals." 

"My father isn't a criminal!" Barry protested loudly, his face flushing brightly. 

"No, but he spent almost twenty years living as one," Cold replied, reaching out to wrap his hands around Barry's throat, "Adjusting to life as a free man is not easy. I've seen it many times and lived it myself." 

Barry sighed, relaxing under Cold's firm hold, his fingers curling around his wrists. His eyes fluttered closed, saying quietly, "I want to help him." 

"I know," Cold soothed, "But the best thing you can do right now is give him time... do you understand me, Mr. Allen?" 

"Yes, sir," Barry replied obediently, smiling crookedly as he added coyly, "That wasn't very nice of you to tease me like that earlier, saying that in front of my dad..." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cold said innocently, "How else should I address your father?" 

"Anything but that!" Barry laughed. 

"I rather enjoyed watching you blush," Cold purred, his thumbs arching up to trace Barry's jawline, "Can you imagine what your father would say if he knew...?" 

Barry grunted, his breath stolen away as heat crawled up his spine, full of shame and desire. 

"What would he say if he knew his precious boy likes getting fucked raw by me?" Cold went on defiantly, "That he likes being owned, that he enjoys having his body dominated by me and me alone..." 

Barry began to pant, his tongue swiping anxiously over his lips. He couldn't think, his cock already stiffening in his jeans and pleading, "Please, sir... you can't tell him." 

"Oh?" Cold smiled wickedly. "Can't tell him what, Mr. Allen?" 

"That... that I like it." 

"Like what?" Cold pressed. 

"You owning me," Barry breathlessly replied, his eyes flooding with need, "Telling me what to do. Making me yours... I can't..." 

"On your knees, Mr. Allen," Cold ordered firmly, releasing his hold and unbuckling his belt. 

Barry whined, dropping down obediently and staring at Cold's thick cock as he pulled it out for him. He began to drool almost immediately, waiting to be given permission to touch. 

"Open your mouth, Mr. Allen," Cold commanded. 

Barry's lips parted immediately, groaning when Cold began to rub his cock along his lower lip. 

"What would your father say if he saw you like this?" Cold taunted. 

"God..." Barry moaned, his eyes gazing up at Cold, whining desperately. 

"You're always such a good boy for me," Cold said sweetly, "Go on and suck my cock, Mr. Allen." 

Barry lunged forward, hungrily swallowing down all that he could. He let his throat relax, bottoming out immediately and burying his nose against Cold's stomach, sucking hard. 

Cold stroked his fingers through Barry's hair, praising, "Good boy... I think your father would be so proud of you... such a very, very good boy..." 

Barry whined, squeezing his eyes tight as he continued to suck, squeezing Cold's thighs. He was terribly embarrassed and every pulse of shame that rocked through him made his cock throb. 

Cold's fingers tightened in Barry's hair, rocking his hips forward, fucking his mouth as he sighed, "You wouldn't want him to see how much you love this? I bet you're so hard right now... show me." 

Barry let Cold thrust in his mouth relentlessly, swallowing down a gag as he hastily unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled out his cock for Cold's inspection, desperate to stroke himself, but waiting. 

He wanted to be good. 

"Lovely, Mr. Allen," Cold said, fucking deeper into his mouth, enjoying the occasional gasp or moan he could elicit with a hard thrust. 

Barry opened his mouth as wide as he could, well aware that he was drooling from the corners of his mouth. He didn't bother to wipe it away. He knew how much Cold liked it. 

Cold suddenly pulled back, wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking himself off quickly, ordering, "Stick out your tongue, Mr. Allen." 

Barry eagerly stuck out his tongue as far as he could, listening to Cold's feverish panting and groaning when he got his first taste of hot come. He swallowed it all down, gasping when an errant shot streaked across his cheek, moaning contently. 

Cold grunted, satisfied, rubbing the slick tip of his cock back across Barry's tongue for him to lap up every last drop. 

Barry was warm all over, smiling shyly up at Cold as he asked softly, "May I come now, sir?" 

Cold swiped the glob of come from Barry's cheek, offering it to him as he said, "Yes, you may." 

Barry sucked on Cold's thumb, frantically stroking himself to completion. It didn't take very long at all, inhaling sharply as he came, shuddering into his own hand. He nuzzled against Cold's thigh, panting, "Thank you, sir."

Cold gently pulled him up to his feet, kissing him gently as he murmured, "Just as you trust me with your body, please trust me with your father's wellbeing. I only want to help him. Do you understand?" 

Barry whined quietly, but nodded, whispering, "I trust you." 

"Good," Cold said, allowing another kiss before he pulled away to clean himself up. He offered Barry a towel, saying casually, "We still have some time before dinner..." 

Barry grinned slyly, tilting his head as he asked, "Oh? Did you have something in mind?" 

"I'm thinking some more trust exercises are in order," Cold replied with a sly smile, pulling his belt from his pants and cracking it across his palm. 

Barry shivered at the sound, already peeling out of his clothes. He practically jumped into bed, laughing as Cold pounced on top of him, smothering hot kisses and playful bites against his throat. 

"I love you," Barry sighed happily, opening his mouth willingly for Cold to place the belt in between his teeth.

"Et je t'aime ," Cold purred softly, smiling adoringly down at Barry, placing the belt with a tender touch, "Toujours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy, look! Posting in this AU again! Woooo! More family time with Henry coming up! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry enjoys celebrating his freedom with Cold and Barry.

Barry was sore and happy by the time Cold finally let him find release and dragged him into the shower to clean up. They kissed for long and tender moments, Cold pulling away to bathe and massage all the welts he'd left across Barry's thighs and bottom. 

Barry sighed, leaning against the shower wall while Cold took care of him. 

They stayed in the shower much longer than necessary, Cold massaging Barry until he thought he might be in danger of falling asleep standing up. It was so easy to relax under his strong hands, giving himself over completely. 

He pouted when Cold herded him out to get dried off and ready for dinner, gently patting him down with a fluffy towel and wrapping him in a plush robe. Barry took the chance to repay the favor, drying Cold off with equal love and attention. 

Cold allowed it, smirking as he watched Barry carefully. 

Barry knew not to ever take being able to touch Cold for granted. He treasured every opportunity, bowing his head to kiss his lover's scarred breast, smiling softly. 

Cold cradled his chin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before leaving him to get dressed. Barry followed, always happy to watch Cold put on his suits. 

He laid across the bed, watching Cold select socks and snug fitting boxer briefs, enjoying the reverse strip tease. He was always reminded of a warrior preparing for battle when he watched Cold get dressed, admiring the meticulous way he fixed every button and seam. 

Cold knew he was being watched, dryly remarking, "You like this, do you?" 

"I do," Barry replied, grinning sweetly, "I love how you dress. I think I might actually be developing a fetish for suits because of you." 

Cold snorted, selecting a three piece suit to wear though he declined to put on the jacket. It was a dark blue pinstripe, the shirt a pale grey, the tie blue, and Barry wished he could take a picture. 

His boyfriend always cut such a fine figure in his gorgeous suits and looked every bit the powerful gangster that he had first fallen in love with. 

"And what you would do if I decided to wear a t-shirt and some ratty old sweatpants?" Cold teased, adjusting his cuffs with a wink. 

"First, I would call Doc Snow to make sure you weren't having some sort of early onset dementia," Barry laughed, "And then I would probably die of freakin' shock." 

Cold chuckled softy, stepping into his shoes with a smirk. This was about as casual as the gangster ever got in his daily dress, straightening his tie and tucking it down into his vest. 

"Unless you're planning on coming down to dinner naked, I suggest you get dressed," Cold scolded playfully, approaching to ruffle a hand through Barry's hair. 

Barry stretched and groaned, sighing, "Fine." He finally dragged himself up and put clothes on, slim fitting jeans that he knew Cold liked and a red dress shirt he thought looked nice. 

Definitely not as sharp as his gangster lover, but he thought it was more than enough for dinner at home with his father. 

He was excited and nervous, a fluttering blend of emotions that made his head light as he followed Cold downstairs. 

He knew Cold had told him to give his father some time, but they had so much to make up for. He was determined to trust his lover, trying to resist rushing into his father's arms the moment he saw him seated at the table. 

Jerry was fussing over him and offering a frosted pint of beer that he graciously accepted. 

"Thank you," Henry sighed, taking a long sip and smiling warmly. He seemed a bit more relaxed now, although Barry noticed that his eyes seemed to wander often. 

"Hey, Dad," Barry greeted cheerfully, grinning as his father rose to hug him and clap him on the back. 

"Hey, slugger," Henry said with a smile, kissing his cheek and sitting back down to tend to his beer. 

"Everything to your satisfaction, Henry?" Cold asked politely, taking his seat at the head of the table, Henry seated across from him at the other end. 

Barry sat to Cold's right, beaming happily between the two men. 

"Everything is phenomenal," Henry said with a firm nod, "Thank you for your hospitality." 

"My pleasure," Cold drawled, speaking a brief snippet of French to Jerry. 

Jerry nodded, obediently bringing over two glasses and pouring a rich red wine for him and Barry. 

"Thank you," Barry sighed happily, taking the glass and drinking heavily. 

"So!" Henry said jovially. "You never did tell me; how did you two meet?" 

Barry sputtered, snapping his hand over his mouth to stop himself from spraying wine all over the table. He flushed, stammering, "W-well, it's sort of a f-funny story..." 

Henry's brow furrowed. 

"We met... through Maury," Barry said slowly, glancing nervously at Cold. He would take the story of how their relationship began to the grave before ever telling his father he was basically selling his body to pay off his debt. 

Cold's lips were curled in an amused smile around the rim of his glass, and Barry swore he was trying not to laugh. 

"Maurice Martine," Henry sighed affectionately, shaking his head, "How is ol' Maury the Mouth these days? I always enjoyed his letters. That man molds profanity like a master sculptor." 

"He's good! Cranky, you know, like always," Barry chuckled, "But I know he'd love to see you. Uhm, you know, whenever you're ready!" 

"Sure thing, kiddo," Henry nodded, finishing his beer and exhaling slowly, "So, Maury just decided to introduce you to the most criminal in all of Central City?" 

Cold smirked at the blunt question, and Barry thought he was going to die from embarrassment. His father had a twinkle in his eye, downright mischievous, as if he somehow knew there was more to the story that Barry didn't want to know. 

"When I first met your son," Cold said carefully, glancing down at his wine glass, "It was only business. The pleasure, the love... came later." 

"And you love my son?" Henry asked casually, smiling appreciatively when Jerry brought him another beer. He looked at Cold, still sly and playful, but his jaw was tight. 

Barry's heart jumped into his throat, glancing nervously between his father and Cold. 

Cold set down his glass, leaning across the table to meet Henry's eye. He took a deep breath, his icy facade melting ever so slightly. Barry noticed the shift, the cold armor dropping away as his lover regarded Henry with an openness rarely ever seen. 

"Yes," Cold replied sincerely, "I do." 

"Good," Henry nodded, raising his beer to take a long sip as he added nonchalantly, "I'd hate to go back to prison for actually killing someone." 

"So would I," Cold agreed, nodding sternly and taking the threat with a calm sip of wine. 

Barry chugged down his glass, his cheeks flushed. His father had just threatened Boss Cold, and Cold might have possibly just threatened him back, and they were both smiling. 

Jesus Christ. 

Barry mumbled his thanks when Jerry took the bottle to refill his glass. He almost drank half of it before Cold's concerned gaze stopped him. 

"Dinner will be served momentarily," Jerry promised, swishing back to the kitchen with a polite bow. 

"Merci," Cold purred, glancing back at Henry as he said, "You're more than welcome to stay here as my guest for as long as you'd like." 

"I appreciate that," Henry replied, "But I do hope to get back on my own feet again soon. I've been away from the world too long." 

"Any idea what you wanna do?" Barry asked gently, glad the conversation had taken a more relaxed turn. 

"I've been thinking about that for years," Henry laughed, "And now that the moment is here... I'll be honest, son. I have no friggin' idea." 

"Yeah?" Barry laughed. 

"Nope," Henry chuckled, "Practicing medicine is probably out of the question-" 

"Not unless you want it to be," Cold calmly interjected, "It would be easy enough to have your physician's license reinstated." 

"Easy, huh?" Henry shook his head, downing his beer with a wry smile. He chose his words carefully, replying, "Easy to bribe the medical board, you mean." 

"Easy to provide a donation," Cold corrected, "And I can be very generous." 

"I appreciate that," Henry said firmly, "But if I cannot do it on my own merits, then I would rather not do it at all." 

"As you wish," Cold said with a shrug. 

"I still want to do something to help people," Henry went on, "Especially those that can't help themselves. I don't have to be a doctor to do that. I actually have a mind to turn my attention to the prison system right here." 

"Really?" Barry blinked. 

"The system is atrocious," Henry replied with a shake of his head, "There are so many problems. Medical alone is a nightmare. There's a reason so many prisoners like Kyle came to me instead of bothering with the infirmary." 

"I have some connections with the prison board," Cold said with a smirk, "And I've been considering having the warden replaced with someone more sympathetic..." 

Barry marveled at the way Cold talked about replacing someone with all the ease of changing a tire. 

"I'm sure a prisoners' advocate position could be created," Cold went on, "If that's something you would be interested in." 

"Now that is an offer I will take you up on!" Henry laughed, grinning wide. "Medical would be my first target. It's terrible. Yes, they're prisoners, but they deserve better than that place's brand of medieval torture." 

"Dad, that would be great!" Barry gushed excitedly, happy to see his father smiling so brightly. 

"Could definitely use a lawyer's help from time to time," Henry said with a wink. 

"You'll have it," Barry beamed, "I'm going back to school as soon as I can." 

"Dinner is served, monsieurs," Jerry announced, swinging back into the dining room with a tray of steaming food, "Steaks the size of Texas, as requested." 

Henry chuckled, staring hungrily down at the enormous T-bone steak set down in front of him. "Wow," he sighed, "Thank you, Jerry. This looks friggin' incredible." 

"Oh, it's nothing, monsieur," Jerry preened, smiling proudly as he served Barry and Cold. 

The next few moments were filled with the light clattering of silverware as they ate, Henry making little pleasurable sounds as he chowed down. Jerry brought him another beer, still glowing from having someone so happy to eat his food. 

"Why, Daddy Allen," Lisa purred from the doorway, smiling at him ravenously, "Don't you look lovely all cleaned up!" 

To Barry's delight, his father blushed. 

Lisa walked up beside him, lightly raking her nails over his shoulder as she teased, "Much improved." 

"Thank you, Miss Snart," Henry said, smiling shyly up at her, "Nothing sweeter than the compliments of a beautiful woman." 

"Why, Daddy Allen!" Lisa laughed, lightly petting his cheek. "You are just adorable." 

"Behave yourself, sister," Cold lightly chastised, smirking. 

Barry had never seen his father so flustered, grinning in between bites. 

"I am!" Lisa argued. 

"I certainly wouldn't mind if you misbehaved," Henry said innocently, and Barry nearly inhaled his steak. 

"Mmm, and here I thought you were a good boy!" Lisa teased. 

"There might be snow on the rooftop, but there's still fire in the furnace, Miss Snart," Henry told her sagely, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"You wicked old thing!" Lisa gasped, pretending to be aghast. "My boyfriend better watch out; apparently he has some competition..." 

"Enough," Cold warned with a roll of his eyes, chuckling softly, "We're trying to eat." 

"My apologies," Henry said, still smiling brightly, "I meant no offense." 

"Oh, none taken," Lisa assured him with a wink, "I love shamelessly flirting with handsome men." 

"Flirt elsewhere," Cold drawled, pointing his fork at his sister, "Doesn't your little boyfriend need some tending to?" 

"Yes, dear brother," Lisa replied, scrunching up her nose with a smirk, "I was just on my way over to see him. Wanted to stop in and see Daddy Allen!" She blew Barry a kiss, giggling, "And Baby Allen, of course!" 

"Have fun!" Barry laughed. "Say hi to Cisco for me!" 

"You boys have a lovely evening!" Lisa purred before slinking away, waving farewell. 

Henry went right back to his steak, making small talk about the changes he'd like to make in the prison with Cold voicing his support. Barry was glad to listen, watching two of the most important people in his life getting along fabulously. 

Dinner was cleared away, and Barry had lost count of his many glasses of wine he'd had. Cold suggested they take their drinks into the living room, a massive space of plush couches and state of the art electronics. Barry plopped down in his usual spot, stretched out across the couch positioned in front of the massive television. 

Cold sat down on the end so Barry could put his head in his lap, surprisingly at ease around Henry to show such affection. 

Henry took the spot on the opposite end of the sofa, propping Barry's feet in his lap and asking cheerfully, "So? What are we gonna watch?" 

"You're the guest!" Barry laughed, his cheeks rosy from all the wine. "You get to pick." 

"I'm a little behind on recent flicks, slugger," Henry reminded him with a smirk. 

"Well," Barry said cheerfully, "We have all the time in the world to get you all caught up!" 

"Yeah," Henry agreed with a fond smile, giving Barry's feet an affectionate squeeze, "We sure damn do." He smiled warmly, adding sweetly, "I love you, kiddo." 

"I love you, too," Barry replied with a grin. 

Henry sipped at his beer, sinking down into the lush cushions and sighing contently. It was the first time since his release that Barry had seen him so relaxed. 

"I take it your first day as a free man is going well, Henry?" Cold chuckled, his fingers absently gliding through Barry's hair. 

"You know," Henry laughed, "Yeah, it really is." 

Cold raised his glass, purring, "Here's to you, Henry. May every day of freedom bring you such joy." 

Henry lifted his beer in salute, agreeing, "And here's to you and Barry for making that happen. Thank you both. And to the future. I expect some grandkids at some point, you know." 

Barry squeaked without meaning to, glancing up at Cold and flushing all over. They hadn't talked much about such things, immediately concerned that Cold's mood might sour. He was surprised to see his lover smiling softly. 

"Only time will tell," Cold teased, continuing to stroke Barry's hair adoringly. 

Barry smiled at that, his eyes heavy from the wine. He didn't even know what movie they had finally decided on, passing out before the opening credits had even finished. He distantly felt Cold lifting him up into his arms and starting to carry him upstairs. 

There was a pause, a warm kiss on his forehead and his father's voice murmuring, "Love you, slugger." 

Barry smiled sleepily, Cold taking him up to their room and tucking him into bed. For the first time, he allowed himself a real and honest sense of pride. He was no longer the failure he had always worried about becoming. He had finally done the impossible and freed his father. 

His father was free, he was in love with a gorgeous gangster, and life was good. 

No, better than good; life was pretty damn fantastic. 

As he drifted back off to sleep, he let himself fantasize about the future ahead of him; finishing college, becoming a lawyer and helping his father take on the decrepit prison system. 

Maybe even marriage with Cold and adopting some kids. It all sounded wonderful, although he wasn't really sure what Cold really thought about actually settling down some day and having a family. 

He didn't dare to dream such wonderful things would all come true, but it was nice to think about. 

And besides, Cold had said it best; only time would tell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, squish time! Don't worry, smut is around the corner and outlining for the sequel sooooon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hartley and Axel have a lovely time celebrating the Rogues' victory.

"Maybe we should move this somewhere, uh, a little more private?" Hartley Rathaway was asking awkwardly, glancing warily over at James Jesse. It was definitely unnerving to make out with someone while their father was watching. 

Especially a father who he had sort of screwed over before on a business deal and might possibly still be holding a grudge. 

"Oh, don't mind me!" Jesse giggled, waving at them as if asking them to continue. 

Axel Walker rolled his eyes, sliding out from beneath Hartley on the couch and grabbing his hands. "Let's go," he ordered, dragging him up to feet and hurrying down the hall. 

"Have a fun time, son!" Jesse called out after them cheerfully. He was left to watch Nimbus and Mardon go at it on the bar, but they didn't seem to care that they had an audience. 

Everyone was having such a great time celebrating their victory over Eobard Thawne and the Santini family. Cold had taken Barry upstairs, Mick had left to seek out Doctor Snow, Lisa and Cisco were up in her room, and now Hartley was being led away by the guy of his dreams. 

Axel was wild and outrageous, brave and funny, exciting and gorgeous; everything he could ever want in a partner. 

Hartley could hardly believe this was happening, letting Axel lead him wherever he wanted. He'd had a crush on Axel for a very long time, but he'd always thought that the bad blood between him and his father had spoiled any chances of romance between them. 

Judging by how quickly Axel had shoved his tongue into his mouth back on the couch, that was clearly not the case. 

Hartley couldn't see very well since his glasses had ended up somewhere on the other side of the couch, having to trust Axel to guide them somewhere suitable to be intimate. He squinted, finding they were in the kitchen now and Axel was quickly crowding him up against the counter. 

Axel was all over him, eagerly dropping to his knees and tugging at the fly of Hartley's pants. His cock was out in seconds, Axel purring approvingly at how hard he was and stroking his tongue greedily up the shaft. 

Hartley almost choked, the wet heat of Axel's tongue snatching away his breath and any ability for rational thought. It was absolutely incredible. "S-so," he stammered, "I'd really like to take you out to dinner sometime." 

"Mmm," Axel hummed, "More of a takeout kinda guy. You know, like get some Chinese? Netflix and chill?" 

"S-sure," Hartley stuttered, crying out as Axel wrapped his lips around the head of his cock. He couldn't stop himself from rocking forward, wishing to God he had his glasses so he could fully appreciate the lovely view. 

Axel never looked away, his dark eyes burning up into Hartley's as he sucked him off. His mouth was stretched impossibly wide, groaning as he took every inch down his throat. His hands grabbed at his thighs, squeezing tight as his head began to swiftly bob. 

"Shit!" Hartley hissed, his palm smacking the counter, his knees shaking. He never could have imagined that Axel was so damn talented with his mouth. He kept waiting for a reprieve, a moment for Axel to gag or need a breath, but he never stopped. 

Axel was clearly enjoying himself, his cheeks flushed and rosy, a smile somehow managing to curl his lips despite having a mouthful of cock. He held onto Hartley's legs, fingers tightening down as he ravaged him with his tongue, sucking hard enough to make him squeal. 

"Axel!" Hartley pleaded, ready to crawl up on the counter, closing his eyes tightly. He was so damn close and started pushing at Axel's forehead, gasping, "Wait, wait!" 

Axel popped off with a little frown, asking, "What's wrong?" 

"Fuck," Hartley panted, shaking his head, "Don't wanna come yet." 

"Good, huh?" Axel said smugly, running his tongue over his slick lips with a wink. 

Hartley reached up to adjust his glasses even though they weren't on his face, nodding, "Oh, you're spectacular." 

Axel climbed up Hartley's body to kiss him, sighing happily. It was easy to get carried away making out, grinding together and purring soft little noises of encouragement. 

Hartley was positively dizzy, grinning contently when they came up for air, sighing, "Wow..." 

"Mmm, just wait until you fuck me," Axel assured him, wiggling his hips suggestively. 

"Right! Sex! Yes!" Hartley's head bobbled eagerly, suddenly frantic as he hissed, "Shit. I don't have any, you know, protection with me. Wasn't exactly expecting this." 

"Ugh," Axel groaned, reaching into his pocket and unfurling an entire roll of condoms. 

"You just carry around a giant pack of rubbers?" Hartley scoffed, staring dumbly. 

"And lube!" Axel said cheerfully, his other hand producing several small packets. He smirked smugly, teasing, "Always be prepared. That's the Rogue motto!" 

"Pretty sure that's the Boy Scouts," Hartley blinked. 

"Are we really arguing about this right now?" 

"No, nope, we're not." 

Axel snorted, wiggling out of his pants and spreading himself out across the counter. "Come on," he demanded , "Let's go. Your cock, my ass." 

Hartley fumbled to pull on a condom, squinting as he tried to get himself lined up. There was something there between Axel's cheeks, reaching down and gasping, "Are you... are you freakin' plugged right now?" 

"Uh, duh," Axel laughed giddily, turning his head and grinning at Hartley over his shoulder, "I usually am..." 

"Is that why you're always so... twitchy?" 

"Chances of you fucking me decreasing by the second," Axel drawled. 

"Sorry! Sorry! Focusing!" Hartley nodded, reaching for the plug and gently pulling it free with a quiet squelch. 

Axel moaned softly, reaching back to stretch his gaping hole open, slicking it up with a fresh coat of lube as he panted, "Now, come the fuck on. I'm ready." 

"God, yes," Hartley breathed, pressing against Axel's ass and pushing inside. He gasped, startled by the sudden heat and pressure, groaning happily, "Wow... Axel..." 

Axel curled his back, holding himself up on the counter as he purred, "Uh huh... mmm, your dick feels fuckin' awesome." 

Hartley flushed with pride, holding onto Axel's slim hips and rocking forward. Even with the prep Axel had done with the plug and all that lube, there was still a beautiful tug of resistance as his cock slid in and out. It was absolutely wonderful. 

The slow and steady pace was hypnotic, but soon Axel was impatient. He started bucking his hips back, slapping the counter as he snapped, "Come onnnn! Fuck me, Hartley! None of this Lifetime movie squishy shit, _fuck me_!" 

Hartley scowled, repositioning his feet and slamming his cock in roughly. Axel wanted to be fucked, he could certainly oblige him. He knew it wouldn't last long, but it would be heavenly while it did. 

Axel screamed happily, alternating between giggling feverishly and moaning as Hartley thrusted inside his tight hole. "Yesss, fucking get it, Hartley!" he wailed, his head dropping down on the counter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, yesss!" 

Hartley could only pant, grunting with every increasingly violent thrust. Axel's lean body was gorgeous as it rolled beneath him, a fire erupting in his loins as he came, stuttering loudly, "Fuck! Coming! Fuck, I'm coming!" 

Axel whined, reaching down to grab his cock, jerking himself off frantically as he wiggled desperately, moaning, "Fuck, yes! That's what the fuck I'm talking about! Come onnn! Mmmph!" 

Hartley flopped against Axel's back, rocking him through the lovely tremors of their orgasms, gasping for air when they finally both went still. He felt warm and fuzzy down to the bottoms of his feet, grinning lazily as he murmured, "Wow..." 

"I know," Axel said smugly, grinning wildly as he added, "You know we're totally doing this again, right?" 

"What about your dad?" Hartley asked gently, still concerned with the drama that had transpired between them before. 

"Well," Axel sighed, looking strangely thoughtful, "I mean, if you really to? He'd probably be down, and it wouldn't be the first time we've shared a dude-" 

"No!" Hartley protested quickly. He grimaced, clarifying, "I meant, is he going to still hold a grudge and possibly make us seeing each other complicated?" 

"Probably," Axel snorted, giggling, "Maybe you should fuck him. Might put you on his good side." 

Hartley whined quietly, trying to bury himself into Axel's shoulder. 

Axel turned his head, placing a sweet kiss on Hartley's cheek and purring softly, "Awww, don't worry, big boy. I'll protect you from my scary daddy." 

"Oh, yeah?" Hartley laughed nervously. 

"Yeah," Axel confirmed, smiling happily, "I mean, we can't bang if you're dead, so, pretty awesome motivation to keep you alive." 

"Good point," Hartley nodded, clearing his throat and asking shyly, "So... wanna go grab some Chinese food?" 

"Oh, fuck yes," Axel gushed, "It's a date." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, the smut fairy gave Pipebomb some lovin'! Enjoy! <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry struggles with his return to college, but Cold is there to make him feel better.

Barry had nearly forgotten the torturous grind of classes and how exhausting they could be. He had registered for school as soon as he could, trying to pick up right where he had left off from before. 

He had to give up working at the bar almost entirely because he needed the time to study and write papers. Cold was supportive, reminding him to make sure he got plenty of rest and made time to take care of himself. He was also happy to point out that he could easily secure Barry's law degree with a phone call. 

Barry politely declined. 

He was determined to earn his degree all on his own. He already felt guilty enough that Cold was writing all the checks for his tuition. He knew that money was not an issue for his very rich boyfriend, although he was very amused by Cold's comments on the insane cost of textbooks. 

When Barry informed him that just one book cost several hundred dollars, Cold had scoffed and said, "And they call _me_ a criminal..." 

He mused that the Rogues might get into the textbook business, finding a benign operation ripe for corruption with such high mark ups on relatively cheap products. 

Barry was too focused on his schoolwork to worry about Cold's potential takeover of the textbook industry, struggling to get back into the swing of being a full time student. 

Midterms snuck up on him without warning, Cold staying up late with him every night to help study. Naturally, a career criminal knew a lot about the law, and he was a great study partner. He found many creative and erotic ways to keep Barry quite motivated and his resulting grades were near flawless. 

No matter what business he had going on with the Rogues, Cold always made time for Barry to celebrate every passing mark. 

As finals approached, however, Cold had to go out of town for a few days. He promised to call Barry each night and check on him, kissing him farewell before he departed. It was the first time they had been apart since they had started dating, and Barry was surprised how much he missed Cold. 

The house was too quiet, the bed too empty, and Barry was quite lonely. The phone calls came every evening as promised, but Barry still longed for Cold's return. He wasn't sleeping well, staying up too late as the stress of his final exams crippled his guts. 

He was worried that he was coming down with something, gobbling up loads of cold and flu medicine to soothe his aching body. It didn't seem to help much, only clouding his mind and made concentrating on his studies nearly impossible. 

The day of the exams came and when Barry woke up that morning, he knew immediately that he was very sick. He felt awful, shivering and clammy, struggling to get out of bed to make it to the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before his stomach forced up everything from the night before. 

After several rounds of dry heaving, he fought against the nausea to get up and take a shower. 

He had to get to class. 

He couldn't afford to miss his exams. 

The moment Jerry saw him when he came downstairs, he insisted on taking Barry to a doctor right away. Barry argued that he couldn't miss class today, promising that he'd call Doc Snow as soon as they got back. 

Jerry refused to negotiate, threatening to call Boss Cold if Barry didn't get back into bed at once. 

Barry snatched the keys away from Jerry, delirious and protesting wildly as he tried to fight his way outside. He was struck by a strange dizzy spell, and his vision got violently blurry. 

The world spun faster and faster, whirling all around him, and then it all went white. 

When Barry woke up, it took several seconds for him to figure out where he was. Back in bed, he realized, with Doctor Snow peering over him with a smirk. He didn't even remember walking into his classes, much less taking any of the tests. 

"Wah..." Barry mumbled, surprised at how weak his own voice sounded. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Snow drawled, "Nice of you to join us." 

Barry was shivering all over despite the thick nest of blankets he was wrapped up in, struggling against the tremors and trying to sit up. 

"Stay," a familiar and very firm voice commanded. 

Barry blinked, a strong hand in the middle of his chest holding him down and staring up at the face of his beloved boyfriend. "Len," he breathed, "What are you doing here... You weren't supposed to be home yet..." 

"Jerry called me," Cold replied, his expression blank and unreadable, "You hit him with a bowl of fruit and tried to start the car with the house keys. He was concerned." 

"Oh, God damn it," Barry moaned, flopping against the pillows, shamed and miserable. 

"More like, 'oh, dextromethorphan damn it'," Snow snorted, adjusting an IV she had placed in Barry's arm with latex gloved fingers. 

"Huh?" 

"Let's just say someone had a little too much cough syrup with a nasty case of dehydration and went crazy," Snow clarified dryly. 

"I wasn't that sick!" Barry protested. 

"Says the man guzzling Robitussin like it's apple juice," Snow scoffed, rolling her eyes as she pulled off her gloves. She had an array of bottles set up on the bedside, addressing Cold as she said, "Keep your little puppy out of the medicine cabinet. Give him the promethazine for the nausea, alternate ibuprofen and acetaminophen for the fever." 

"Got it," Cold said sternly. 

"It's a virus," Snow went on, "You just have to wait it out. There's been a pretty nasty strain of stomach flu floating around, probably what he caught. Lots of fluids, blah blah blah." 

"Thank you," Cold replied, his icy gaze silently requesting Snow's quick departure. 

"I was expecting a blood bath, not a tummy ache," Snow snapped, "I'm charging you the usual rate." 

"Charge whatever you wish," Cold growled dismissively, "The cost is of no consequence." 

Snow seemed satisfied by that, smiling smugly and taking her leave. 

Barry had cowered down into the covers during the intense exchange, waiting for the slam of the bedroom door before croaking miserably, "I'm so sorry-" 

"Shush," Cold said, his icy front beginning to melt as he settled down at Barry's side. He pressed a hand against his cheek, his eyes flickering with pain and worry as he said, "Barry, you have nothing to be sorry for." 

"Len," Barry sighed, leaning into Cold's hand, "I... I didn't know I was so sick... I just..." 

"Let me guess," Cold mused, "You weren't sleeping because I wasn't here to tuck you in. You probably weren't eating because I wasn't here to dine with you..." 

Barry's cheeks began to heat up, stuttering, "N-no! I was eating, I was! Hey! I can take care of myself, Len!" 

"Your present state is evidence is to the contrary," Cold retorted smoothly. 

"You're making it out like I'm some dumb kid!" Barry protested, fussing as Cold folded the blankets around him snugly. "I'm a grown ass man, and-" 

Cold silenced him with a kiss, firm and demanding, holding Barry tight. 

Barry wanted to fight, but Cold's lips felt so damn good and he was too tired to protest. He relaxed, tracing his fingers along Cold's jaw and over his short hair, whining quietly when he pulled away. 

"I should have been here to take care of you," Cold said quietly, "You are my responsibility as my lover. It is my job to help care for you when you cannot." 

"I was just... really focused on school..." 

"Your studies distracted you from seeing how ill you were until you were assaulting my employees with fruit," Cold pointed out with a small smirk, "If nothing else, I've learned that I simply will have to take you with me should I have any out of town business again." 

"Len," Barry sighed, smiling weakly. He leaned into Cold's comforting hand, noting, "You know, you shouldn't kiss me... you might get sick." 

"I don't get sick," Cold chuckled confidently, "Now, get some rest, Barry." 

"Shit," Barry gasped, trying to sit up again as he flailed, "My finals! I didn't get to take my tests-" 

"Already taken care of," Cold said firmly, strong hands gently pushing Barry back into bed, "And before you accuse me of anything nefarious, I merely negotiated an extension." 

"H-how?" 

"I sent someone to explain that there was a family emergency," Cold replied innocently. 

Barry scowled, immediately suspicious, asking dryly, "Who did you send to my school, Len?" 

Cold suddenly found the texture of the ceiling very fascinating, hesitating to answer. 

"Len? Who went?" 

"Mick." 

Barry whined loudly, wiggling around in his blanket nest, groaning, "Wow. Could you have sent freakin' Godzilla instead? Might have been less scary!" 

"Shush," Cold scolded, getting Barry settled back down, "You're getting another bag of fluids, and I'll wake you up when it's time to take more medicine. Now... rest." 

Barry pouted, certain all of his teachers would now certainly pass him out of fear of being whacked, signing haggardly. He was still very tired, offering Cold a little smile as he said, "Thank you. I do mean it. For taking care of me." 

"Always," Cold promised him with a soft kiss, "Sleep now." 

The command was gentle but easy to obey, Barry finding sleep again in mere moments. He continued to stir occasionally, still shivering and wretched, finding warm hands to soothe him and dispense medicine regardless of the hour. 

Barry wasn't sure how long he slept, but he was alone when he woke up again. He lifted up his head, his body still aching and sore, but the nausea had thankfully departed. The IV was gone, a small bandaid on his arm from where Cold had removed it. 

It was dark, evening or early morning perhaps. 

Barry yawned, shuffling out of bed to find his robe and use the bathroom. He felt stronger than before, although still a bit chilled. He washed his face, brushed the sweaters off his teeth, and set off to find Cold. 

The soft sounds of Patsy Cline crooning drew him to the kitchen, pausing at the doorway to find Cold cooking. Even sick as a dog, the sight of his lover in an apron made him smile, mumbling, "Hey..." 

"You should be in bed," Cold said, not looking up from the pan he was tending to. 

"Couldn't sleep." 

"Then you'll eat," Cold replied, nodding towards the counter, "It's almost ready." 

"What is it?" Barry asked curiously, groggily taking a seat. 

"Spinach and cheese omelette," Cold said, flipping the pan with a quick flick of his wrist, "And if that doesn't cooperate with your stomach, I also made apple cinnamon oatmeal or we can try some grits with butter." 

Barry stared at all the food lined up along the stove, blinking, "You made all of this... for me?" 

"You need to eat," Cold replied casually, "And it's my job to take care of you, remember?" He bowed his head, sneezing loudly into the crook of his arm. 

They both froze, staring at each other as the pan continued to sizzle, several beats of silence ticking away before Barry began to laugh. 

"I am not sick," Cold growled stubbornly. 

"I told you not to kiss me," Barry teased in a little singsong voice. 

"And I told you that I don't get sick," Cold firmly reminded him, plating the food with a sour scowl. 

"What happens when Boss Cold gets a cold?" Barry giggled. 

"Nothing," Cold replied flatly, sitting down beside Barry and cutting up the omelette with precise strokes of his fork, "Because I don't get sick." 

Barry wanted to keep teasing him, but there was a forkful of food in his face, and that was far more enticing. He let Cold feed him, absolutely melting from the wonderful taste and warm texture. 

"Good?" Cold asked softly, smiling. 

"Good," Barry said, finding his limit only after a few bites, "I'm sorry I can't eat any more..." 

"It's fine," Cold soothed, scooping Barry up into his arms and kissing his forehead, "Let's get you back into bed." 

Barry loved being carried like this, sighing contently and closing his eyes. His stomach gurgled softly at the new invading food, but didn't seem to be in the mood to reject it. 

Cold tucked him back into bed, stretching out beside him. Barry rolled over onto his side, mumbling happily when Cold began to lovingly rub his back. He followed the length of Barry's spine up to his shoulder blades, massaging his neck slowly. 

"Gonna fall back asleep," Barry protested drowsily. 

"Go right ahead," Cold chuckled. 

"Thank you," Barry said with a warm smile, "For taking such great care of me." 

"It's what we do for the people we love," Cold said quietly, curling a strong arm around Barry's waist, "We take care of them." 

"Len," Barry sighed adoringly, the full intent of Cold's seemingly simple statement not lost on him. He wanted to tell Cold how much he loved him, but chose to say instead, "Don't worry. If you ever get sick, I'll take care of you, too." 

Cold snorted softly, as if resisting the urge to inform Barry that he was impervious to illness again, replying simply, "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo many people requested Cold taking care of a sick Barry! Agh! I hope you all enjoy this! <3 Happy reading, lovelies!


	14. Chapter 14

_"I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style. And so I came to see him, to listen for a while. And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes..."_

Barry rocked slowly to the music, rubbing the lingering sleep out of his eyes. He couldn't go back to bed, drawn out of a deep slumber by lingering nightmares. Rivers of blood, cold flesh smothering him, the sounds of his mother's screams. 

Even now that his father had been freed and justice had been served, the nightmares remained. 

Cold didn't seem surprised to see him awake when he came to find him, asking softly, "Bad dreams?" 

"Yes," Barry answered softly, broken and desperate for comfort. 

Cold pulled Barry against his chest, winding his arms around his waist as he soothed, "I'm here." 

_"Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words... Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song; telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly with his song."_

Barry curled into Cold's embrace, clutching the fabric of his shirt, gasping for air he didn't realize he suddenly needed. He couldn't stop crying, the music stabbing right into his soul and leaving him anguished beyond words. 

_"I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd. I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud. I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on..."_

Cold didn't let go. He held Barry tightly, wordlessly pressing soft kisses into his hair and rubbing his long fingers along his back. He let Barry cry all he wanted to, not bothered by any of the tears or snot. 

Barry became self conscious before too long, whimpering as he turned his head away to try and wipe his face. "Fuck," he gasped, "This is so stupid! I just can't, I can't stop fucking crying." 

"You miss her," Cold said knowingly, "The pain of her loss is still with you. It's a good thing." 

"How the hell is it a good thing?" Barry demanded indignantly. 

"Shows how much you loved her that it still affects you so," Cold said gently, kissing Barry's cheek, "Love and grief are often inseparable." 

"I don't want it to hurt anymore," Barry sighed sadly, wiping at his face again, "I just... I just miss her so much, and I'm so freakin' tired of crying." 

"It will always hurt because you will always love her," Cold soothed. 

_"Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words..."_

"Do you ever miss your mom?" Barry asked softly, sniffling. 

"In a sense, yes," Cold replied hesitantly, his eyes briefly darting to the ceiling, "I mourn the relationship we never got to have. Be thankful for the time you did get to spend with your mother. Treasure the memories you have with her. Some of us were not lucky enough to receive such a gift." 

"I'm sorry," Barry said earnestly, shaking his head, "Now I just sound like a freakin' brat or something, don't I?" 

"Not at all," Cold insisted, "Your mother was taken from you, quite horrifically. That trauma will always be with you; I'm merely trying to help you find a more positive perspective." 

"And the dreams?" Barry asked wearily. 

"The dreams never go away," Cold said, a slight edge to his voice, "You learn to live with them." 

Barry curled his arms around Cold's neck to comfort him, knowing his gorgeous gangster had his own very traumatic past. He was surprised to find Cold's hips slowly rocking in time with his. He laughed in spite of his tears, asking incredulously, "You dance?" 

"Yes," Cold said, clearly amused that Barry seemed so surprised and more relaxed now that the conversation had been redirected, "I have many talents you've yet to discover." 

Barry giggled as Cold turned him around, grabbing his hand as they spun before pulling him back into his arms. He squeezed Cold's fingers, resting his arm across his shoulders. 

Cold led him across the floor, fingers laced tightly together and his other hand at the small of Barry's back, guiding him to the steady beat. 

That firm pressure at his spine took Barry's breath away, surprised by how intoxicating it was for Cold to hold him this way. His feet were clumsy, but it was easy to follow Cold's strong lead as they moved together. He let Cold take charge, not able to take his eyes away from that beautiful face for a second. 

He had completely forgot about his nightmare and the pain of his mother's loss. He was totally swept up in Cold's embrace, not able to remember the last he had danced like this with anyone. He leaned his head against Cold's chest, hugging him tight. 

Cold kept them on beat, turning them in slow circles, his hands now fanning out across Barry's back. The song rolled on into the next, and still Cold continued to dance with him. He didn't try any more slick moves, content to hold Barry and rock him gently as Roberta Flack sang on. 

By the time "I'm the Girl" was starting, Barry's eyes were feeling heavy again. There was something so warm and comforting to be held this way, all of his troubles oozing out of his body through his feet as Cold danced with him. 

Every step made his soul lighter, smiling softly as he leaned up for a sweet kiss. The last of his misery was sucked away with a brief lick of Cold's tongue against the inside of his cheek, moaning softly. His body longed for sleep, but there were a few sensual sparks firing off deep in his grey matter. 

"Len," he murmured, fussing softly as he struggled to make a decision for his next course of action. He craved sleep, but he couldn't imagine denying Cold. 

Cold's icy eyes searched Barry's face thoughtfully, considering something for a long moment. "Let's go to bed," he said at last, kissing Barry's hair and hugging him tight. 

"Like, go to bed? Or _go to bed_?" Barry mused, quirking his brows. 

"For sleep," Cold scolded fondly, turning the record player off and guiding Barry into the bedroom. 

Barry snuggled back in bed next to his lover, throwing his legs over Cold's and burrowing his head against his shoulder. He pulled the blankets up around them, sighing contently. 

Cold curled around him and kissed his hair, murmuring, "Good night, Barry." 

"Night, Len," Barry replied, his eyes sliding shut, "And thank you." 

"Mmm?" Cold grunted curiously. 

"For being here for me," Barry sighed, drifting off back to sleep. "For loving me so much." 

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! :D


	15. Chapter 15

"Here's to you, Barry Allen," Cold purred, holding up his glass in a toast, "To completing your first semester back in college and passing with flying colors." 

Barry blushed, the party all around him cheering him on. He shyly hid his face against Cold's shoulder, mumbling his sincere thanks. He grinned when he was tugged up for a sweet kiss, treated to several howls and whistles. 

"That looks like it tastes good," Jesse cackled, drowning any other inappropriate comments in his glass when Lisa glared his way. 

"No killing people at Barry's party," Cisco soothed, gently rubbing her arm. 

"And keep your shoes on," Mick chuckled softly, knowing how destructive Lisa could be with a stiletto in her hand. 

Lisa scowled playfully, but her heels remained on her feet. 

It was a party to celebrate the completion of Barry's first semester back at law school. All of the Rogues were there, plus Doc Snow, Cisco, Maury, and his father. Jerry was hovering here and there, keeping the catering staff on point and making sure there was never an empty glass in anyone's hand. 

Henry came over to embrace him, smacking his back as he gushed, "I'm so proud of you, slugger! And the Dean's list? That's my boy!" 

"Thanks, Dad," Barry beamed, so happy he could share this moment with his father. It wasn't so long ago that he didn't think such a thing would be possible. 

Maury was there next, dragging Barry down to his level to hug his neck, gushing tearfully, "I knew you could fuckin' do it, kid! I fuckin' knew it!" 

"Yeah?" Barry laughed, straightening himself up as they parted. "Never had a doubt?" 

"Okay, mebbe like once o'twice," Maury cackled, winking playfully, "Not bad for gettin' your heart and your dick all mixed up, huh?" 

"Not bad at all," Barry chuckled, smiling fondly. 

"We're all very proud of you," Henry assured him, bringing him in for another hug. "I love you, son." 

"Love you, too," Barry said with a smile. Over his father's shoulder, he saw Cold had drifted away to talk to Mick and Nimbus. 

They looked serious, tense, Nimbus baring his teeth in a quick growl before calming himself when Cold raised up his hand accompanied by a very stern frown. Barry couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't seem pleasant. 

It was easy sometimes to forget what Cold was; a criminal and a gangster. 

Here he was, his father freed and back in college, all thanks to Cold's influence. Barry knew that power was fueled by less than legal ventures, but he selfishly chose to ignore the guilt that tried to surface. 

There was a deeper conflict of morality he didn't want to sort out. Not now, not when he finally had his father back in his life and he was going to finish his education; 

Not when he was so damn happy. 

He watched Cold say something to Nimbus who gave a quick nod in understanding and darted off to pull Mardon away from where he was chatting with Lisa and Cisco. 

Nimbus dragged Mardon roughly out of the lounge, whispering hurriedly to him as they departed. They started arguing loudly, and there was a definite thump of someone hitting the wall. Barry couldn't say if they were headed off for business or pleasure, but it was never easy to tell with those two. 

"What's it like goin' back to prison widdout actually bein' in prison?" Maury was teasing Henry, drawing Barry's attention back to them. 

"Pretty nice," Henry answered with a warm smile, "And satisfying that I can actually help people. Did you know that prison didn't even have an electronic blood pressure monitor? They were doing them all manually!" 

"Is manual really all that bad?" 

"When you don't have a stethoscope, yes," Henry snorted, rolling his eyes, "But!" He smiled now, continuing on, "Thanks to Leonard and the new warden, the prison infirmary is getting all new equipment next week." 

"Including stethoscopes?" Barry giggled.

"Yes!" Henry cheered, laughing happily. "It feels good to help, to make the lives of those men and women better." 

"I'm super proud of you, Dad," Barry said with a grin. He turned to find Cold at his side, a gentle hand resting on the small of his back. 

"Enjoying your party?" Cold purred with a warm smile. 

"Yes, thank you!" Barry replied, tilting his head to kiss Cold's cheek. He kept it brief but warm, smiling sweetly. "This has been amazing. The food is incredible, and the drinks-" 

Right at that moment, Jerry swept in to give Barry a fresh appletini and swished away with the empty glass. 

"The drinks are freakin' awesome," Barry laughed, taking a long gulp. 

"Easy, slugger," Henry chuckled affectionately. 

"I'm fine, Dad!" Barry protested, chugging the rest back and smacking his lips. "I'm not gonna get too messed up, I swear!" 

Famous last words. 

Barry soon discovered that eleven appletinis was too about nine too many, Cold carrying him upstairs to sober up and go to bed. 

"I don't feel gooood," Barry pouted miserably, his head wobbling as Cold set him down on the toilet in their bathroom. "Ugghhh, what happened..." 

"I think it was the last appletini," Cold chuckled, getting a shower going and helping Barry get undressed. He gently guided Barry up under the water, stripping down to join him. 

Barry pressed close, mumbling pitifully and snuggling against Cold's chest. He sighed sadly, fussing, "I'm sorry I screwed up the party." 

"Did you have fun?" Cold asked calmly, his strong hands rubbing over Barry's back. 

"Yeah..." 

"Then nothing was screwed up," Cold soothed, kissing Barry's forehead, "It was your party." 

"And I can puke if I want to?" Barry laughed weakly. 

"If you must," Cold chuckled, his fingers lightly massaging Barry's spine. 

"Haven't decided," Barry mumbled, closing his eyes and relaxing in Cold's strong embrace. 

"Take your time," Cold reassured him. 

Barry soaked under the spray of hot water for several minutes, his stomach beginning to finally settle down. His hands slid down Cold's chest to his side, his thumb catching the old gunshot wounds just beneath his ribs. 

They were the scars left behind from the Santinis' attack all those months ago, the night he'd thought he had lost Cold forever. 

He traced the circular marks, finding them surprisingly soft beneath his touch. He moved around to find the exit wounds, remembering what Snow had said. 

Just an inch... 

In spite of the fear and anguish Barry could recall from that fateful evening, he found himself smiling. 

It was also the first time he'd told Cold that he loved him. 

"Mmm, what is it?" Cold asked softly, nuzzling his cheek into Barry's damp hair. "Thinking about that night?" 

"Yes," Barry replied, "It's a happy memory. But like, not really happy? Because you got hurt and I was so scared... but that's when I knew." 

"Mmm, that you loved me?" 

"That I loved you," Barry confirmed with a warm smile. He snagged a quick kiss, wobbling a little as he asked, "Do you remember?" 

"Remember what?" 

"When you fell in love with me?" Barry pressed, his eyes hopeful as he blinked up at Cold. "I mean, okay, I know it's dumb-" 

"This day," Cold said softly, touching the scar on Barry's arm where he had been shot by Vincenzo Santini. 

"You were in love with me then?" Barry blinked in surprise. 

"That was the day... when I knew that I didn't want to live without you," Cold replied carefully as his fingers followed the scar from end to end, stroking it reverently. 

It seemed so small and minuscule compared to all the decades of damage left behind on Cold's body, but he touched it as if it was absolutely glorious. 

Barry could have easily blamed the alcohol for the tears burning his eyes, but he knew the warmth bubbling up in his heart was from all the love pouring from the tips of Cold's fingers. He leaned into the tender touch, murmuring, "I love you, Len." 

Cold bowed his head, softly mouthing over the scar and leaving gentle kisses as he went. He held Barry close, not wanting a fraction of space between them, seizing his lips in a ravenous kiss. 

The burst of passion made Barry's head spin, moaning shakily as Cold's thick body pressed him up against the tile. He wrapped one arm around Cold's neck, keeping his other hand down on the scars. He massaged them both lovingly, squeezing Cold's side and his hip, the kiss heating up fast. 

Barry had to pull away when his stomach lurched, afraid that he was going to be sick. He groaned, his heart fluttering violently hard, panting softly, "Fuck, Len..." 

Cold gave him room to breathe, nosing along his shoulder as he said, "I'm sorry..." 

"No," Barry protested, "I don't want to stop. I want to do it. Just, just give me a second." 

"Even after all those appletinis?" Cold chuckled warmly, "You are so very stubborn, Barry." 

"Hey, it's just one of the many things you love about me, right?" Barry giggled, a dopey grin brightening up his face. 

Cold smiled softly, something mischievous twinkling in his eye as if he had the most fantastic secret. His only response was to press a sweet kiss to Barry's lips, warm and slow. 

Barry gave himself over to the tender affection, melting into Cold's loving kiss. Cold's fingers were tracing the scar on his arm again, curling around him close as they kissed. The sickness in his stomach was receding, grateful for the patient pace. 

Cold didn't push, allowing Barry to control every sensual advance at his leisure. They parted to bathe each other, Barry choosing to lather up his hands instead of using a washcloth. He wanted to feel every scar, every old wound, Cold's marred flesh sliding slick beneath his soapy fingers as they traded soft kisses. 

He knew Cold had lived a violent life and had suffered so much, but Barry hoped he found peace when they were together. There was no other place in the world where Barry was so happy, certain that his lover's embrace was as close to heaven as he would ever find. 

Cold was not an easy man to love, but love him Barry did, with all of his heart. 

They had come so far; and while the journey here hadn't been a smooth road for either of them, the destination they found together was worth every bump. All the tears, all the blood and scars left behind, had set the foundation for a love that would survive for all time. 

The heaven Barry knew was the one he had built with Cold and he would treasure it always. 

"Len," Barry said suddenly, swaying under the lingering hold of the alcohol. He had to stop, his hands framing the sides of Cold's face, searching those icy blues as he whispered urgently, "I love you." 

"Barry," Cold replied, his voice cracking softly from the weight of all the emotions it carried. The tundra of his gaze was melting, drowning Barry's soul with its intensity, whispering, "You... you're everything I've ever wanted... and yet nothing I deserve." 

Barry had to kiss him again, his soul set on fire from those intimate words, his hands grabbing every inch of flesh he could. He had to taste the inside of Cold's cheek, whining with need and desire. 

To bed they went, still half wet from the shower in their rush to be passionately connected. Cold's patience was waning, lube and fingers quickly passing between them before he finally pressed inside of Barry, both of them moaned together in bliss. 

Cold had Barry's hands pinned against the mattress, sucking possessive marks into his throat as he grunted in his ear from the efforts of his hips driving himself deeper and deeper. Barry was a complete slave to every thrust, writhing helplessly, crying out at the beautiful sensations. 

Cold owned him, every part. It was the deal they had made. From his hair down to his toes, Barry Allen belonged to Boss Cold. Even though Cold had yet to speak the magical three words, Barry knew he felt the same way. 

Just as Barry belonged to Cold, Cold belonged to Barry. 

It was in the tender way Cold wiped away Barry's tears, how he held him down so gently, the way his eyes tracked every twitch of Barry's face to make sure all that he did was bringing him the most precise and unbelievable pleasure. Despite the rough finish designed to make Barry scream as he found his end, there was nothing but love in Cold's soft kisses. 

Barry did own Boss Cold, he was certain of it; if nothing else, he knew he held his heart. 

As both of their pulses rolled down to languid thumps in the tender aftermath, he decided that was enough for now. His life was assuming something resembling normal. His father was free, he was back in school, he was totally debt free, and he was ridiculously in love. 

He'd finally found his happily ever after; 

It was being the keeper of a gangster's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
